


Divided

by funygirl38



Series: The Path [4]
Category: Loki - Fandom
Genre: Adventure, Alfheim, Asgard, F/M, Gen, Midgard, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-02-22 08:00:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 102
Words: 397,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2500484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funygirl38/pseuds/funygirl38
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the fourth and final installment of the Path series, after the events of United, life for Loki and his family has finally settled down until a new threat comes from Midgard, of all places, when Stark inadvertently sets into motion a chain of events that could threaten the nine realms, and tear Loki's family apart in the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_1\. Two longhouses have been built to specification by the local inhabitants per project request. No new structures are to be erected on site. Only modifications to existing structures will be allowed. See Section 3, Line 20 of your Research and Development Manual. (Co-habitation Agreement)_

_2\. No unauthorized travel. Permits will be issued as needed according to use and necessity. All excursions must be escorted by qualified personnel or an appointed resident. See Section 2, Line 9 of Research and Development Manual. (Co-habitation Agreement)_

__

3\. The transportation of cultural artifacts and property is expressly forbidden without written permission of The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division in conjunction with The European Monitoring Investigation and Enforcement Division. All other exports and imports are subject to individual consideration..

__

 

The sudden drop in altitude brought his behind out of the seat while the papers slid out of his lap to land beneath the feet of the passenger in front of him. He gripped the armrest with a decidedly un-manly screech, relieved to hear by the curses and whispered prayers around him that he wasn't the only person who'd been unnerved by the turbulence.  
As the plane leveled off again, he leaned forward to retrieve the papers, cursing under his breath. He abhorred flying. If the assignment hadn't been a once in a lifetime chance, he would have been happy to keep his feet firmly planted in Helen's Bay. Instead, he'd packed his suitcases, seen his doctor to beg off some Valium for the flight and boarded the plane at Belfast International airport.  
The assignment hardly seemed believable. A couple days prior to his departure he'd gone to the nursing home to visit his grandfather and tell him the news.

He hated the smell of the place. A mixture of stale urine, ancient perfume, muscle rub and cafeteria food permeated the air. He would always bring flowers of some sort, the more fragrant the better, listening as his grandfather, a former horticulturist, expounded on the origin or the genus of the blooms, adding some old folklore in for good measure. Then he would make sure his grandfather was comfortable, had everything he needed, often staying for supper with him.  
Of course that afternoon, his grandfather knew right off this visit was different.  
“Colin, where is it yer off to now?”  
“Grandad, I only just got here.” he smiled, patting his grandfather's knee, all at once realizing how much weight he seemed to have lost in the past year.  
“Aye, you miss me meaning but I can see it in yer face. You've come to tell me something.”  
Colin had given him a sheepish grin, unsure how to tell his grandfather what he himself still had trouble believing.  
“I've been given a new assignment.” Colin scratched his head, “Yer gonna think I've gone mental when I tell you.”  
“Try me,” his grandfather had laced his hands over his stomach and leaned back into his pillows.  
“Well I'm going out of town for a wee bit.” In all actuality, his assignment packet indicated he'd be gone for at least a year but he saw no need to worry the old man.  
“But where Col? Ye've not told me where?”  
Colin had given a short laugh, “Do you remember when you used to tell me those stories from that book of mythology? About the gods and goddesses living in palaces high in the sky?”  
“Aye?” He watched the smile slip from his grandfather's face, “What of them?”  
His grandfather preferred to live in the years of his youth now. He'd never had much use for the telly even when Colin was a little boy, much preferring to read the newspapers or books. More often than not, he'd be outside, puttering around in his greenhouses, potting and repotting plants, trying his hand at grafting, leaving the outside world to itself. Therefore, when Colin had hired on with the E.M.I.E.D, he'd simply told his family he worked in an office in Belfast. He'd kept from them the classes which had left his head aching at the end of the day, the intensive combat training he'd had to endure, the multi-level security clearances he'd had to pass, explaining his six month absence at the E.M.I.E.D boot camp, for want of a better word, as an extended business trip.  
Now he was going to let his grandfather in on his biggest secret, not that he would remember anything Colin had said come tomorrow anyway. He looked into his grandfather's rheumy eyes, his expectant face and heaved a great sigh. In the end, Colin told him he was going to New York City in the states, kissed him on the forehead and helped him with his dinner. It wasn't a full on lie. He was going to the states, only he wasn't staying there for long. 

Colin looked out the window at the skyline of Manhattan listening as the other passengers exclaimed over the Statue of Liberty standing sentinel in the harbor, the Empire state building, the Freedom towers, the Brooklyn bridge. He, however, could focus on little else save the oddly shaped skyscraper beside the Chrysler building, rising like an arrow ready to split the clouds with the words “STARK” emblazoned across the penthouse at the top in large red and gold neon letters.  
By the time the wheels of Aer Lingus flight four-six-three touched the tarmac at JFK, he was damp with sweat. His hands gripped his briefcase like a life preserver as the airliner slowed to a halt near the terminal.  
“....On behalf of the captain and crew, we'd like to thank you for flying Aer Lingus and we look forward to seeing you on board again in the future. Have a safe visit..” came the announcement as he shuffled along behind the passengers headed toward the exit hatch. He stepped out of the plane, shielding his eyes against the sun, momentarily overwhelmed by the difference between the temperature controlled cabin and a rare mid June heatwave.  
“Thank you for flying Aer Lingus.” The stewardess nodded at him as he started down the steps. He returned the nod, scanning the tarmac below.  
Parked on the pavement, not far from the bottom step, was a gleaming black car. A woman in a dark gray suit jacket and skirt, her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, stood beside the driver's side door. When she spied Colin, she started towards him with her hand outstretched, a smile on her pretty face.  
“Colin Denehy?”  
“Aye, that'll be me,” He stared at his own reflection in the woman's sunglasses, winced at his worn out appearance.  
She shook his hand, “Agent Lily An...,” she paused, glancing down at the tarmac, her cheeks flushing a bright pink, “Forgive me. I'm still getting used to my married name. I'm Agent Lily Ericson,” She turned to the car, “Shall we?”  
“Uh, me luggage is still on the plane....?” Colin looked over his shoulder at the airliner.  
“Your luggage will be gathered and sent to the office. We're on a tight schedule and we have a lot to go over before you're ready to leave, Agent Denehy,” She gestured toward the door of the sedan being held open by another agent, “Leave everything to us. Let's get going. Soonest begun is soonest done.”  
“Now you sound like me grandad.” Colin climbed into the back seat, setting his briefcase beside him.  
Lily climbed into the passenger seat as the car roared to life, “I'll take that as a compliment.”

Colin gazed out the window, taking in the city as they zipped down street after street.  
“Is this your first time in New York?”  
Colin glanced at Lily in the rearview mirror, “Ah, no. I was here as a boy but I don't recall much of the visit”  
Lily returned his gaze, “A pity you won't have much time to enjoy the city during this visit either.”  
Colin leaned over, peering up at the buildings which soared skyward, “I doubt I'd be able to enjoy it in the first place, even if I had the time. Too much on me mind.”  
At the next red light, Colin found himself staring into the crazed blue eyes an old lady whose great girth and stunted height cast her in the shape of a soccer ball. She'd dyed her hair jet black, her overall appearance made even more comical, dressed, as she was, in a multi-colored shift with a blue button up sweater draped over her shoulders. She was pushing a shopping cart groaning beneath the weight of numerous plastic bags filled with clothes, food, magazines, plastic bottles, empty crates and other detritus caught up in its matrix. Just as the light turned green, she shot him the finger, shouting the word “Asshole” though the window muffled the retort.  
“The people here are the epitome of friendliness.”  
Lily shrugged as they turned down a one way street, “There are exceptions to every rule. You have your good and bad people just like anywhere else.”  
Colin gave her a wry smile, “I suppose.”  
Colin looked down at the floorboard as he felt the car swerve into another turning lane and Lily canted around to look at him,“Did your packet specify your assignment?”  
Colin resisted the urge to check the papers in his briefcase for the thousandth time, “No, it said to be determined. I'm after thinking they wanted to look me over thoroughly before they made their final decision.”  
“Well the fact that you're here means you've cleared quite a few hurdles already.”  
Colin looked up again and for a moment he caught a glimpse the sunlight gleaming off the Art Deco gilding atop the Chrysler building just before the car took a sharp right and they were heading up a ramp into a brightly lit parking garage. Colin felt his heartbeat ramp up.  
“Tell me, when will I be leaving for....,” he paused, “Ya know I still have trouble wrapping me mind around it.”  
“The first trip is a bit intense but it becomes easier each time. Mister Stark is going to streamline the whole process.”  
The car pulled into a spot marked reserved. Before Colin could reach for the handle, the door was being opened. He stepped out onto the pavement, falling in step behind Lily as she headed toward a pair of large red doors across the way, the hollow echo of traffic following them, lending an otherworldly atmosphere to an already unfamiliar scene. A panel set into the concrete off to one side contained only a clear pad with the word “RESTRICTED” above it. Lily took the badge hanging around her neck, passed it in front of the panel and the doors slid open.  
“Are you ready?”  
“Don't tell me we're taking a lift to the bleedin' place.” Colin stared inside with a lopsided grin, enjoying her laughter in response.  
“Not exactly, we're going to meet Director Fury first.”  
Colin swallowed hard as he stepped into the elevator, “I'm thinking Asgard might be the lesser of two evils.”

Colin felt Fury's good eye bore into him as he took his badge out of his hand. “..Mister Denehy...”  
“Colin, please.”  
Fury folded his hands behind his back, “MISTER Denehy. You're going to need a complete physical. We want to make sure you're up to date on your immunizations, not carrying any communicable diseases, make sure your state of health is good.”.  
“I had a physical in Belfast last week,” Colin muttered as he slipped his badge back into the holder clipped to his suit jacket. At this, Fury fixed him with a hard stare, “And you'll have another one. You also have some reading to do before morning.”  
“Me head's stuffed full already,” Colin clapped a hand to his forehead, “Pretty soon I'll have wordstuffs coming out the ears.”  
“There are requirements for this assignment which have to be met, one of which is familiarizing yourself with what you will be encountering, protocols, proper etiquette. Trust me, you do not want to be unprepared for this trip.”  
Understood, sir,” Colin looked down at his shoes, feeling well chastised.  
“Agent Ericson will bring you to the medical lab for your physical, provide you with your homework and show you to your quarters for the evening. There will be a final briefing at zero seven hundred sharp providing everything checks out, then you're on your way.”  
Just before Lily followed Colin out into the corridor, she turned to look at Fury, receiving a raised eyebrow in return. She shot him a thumbs up sign, a sardonic smile on her face as she hurried to catch up with Agent Denehy.

 

The clatter of silverware and glass woke him with a start. He grabbed at the folder, holding it above his head with one hand while he attempted to stem the flow of iced tea from the overturned glass with the other.  
“Ah fuck!”  
He pushed his chair away from the small table, watching the tea drip onto the carpet as he searched for a place to lay the folder down.  
Lily had brought him to the cafeteria after a very thorough physical so he could grab a bit of supper to bring to his quarters. After he'd eaten, he decided to tackle the thick folder Lily had left with him. He figured if he were to sit at the table instead of the comfortable couch to read, there would be no danger of falling asleep. He was obviously wrong.  
He threw the folder onto the short couch in the small sitting area, walked over to the sink at the kitchenette, and unwound a handful of paper towels from the roll sitting on the counter, spying the digital clock above the sink which read 21:02.  
“After nine already, Christ, no wonder I'm falling asleep,” he groaned, setting the now empty glass in the sink. As he mopped up the iced tea, he considered phoning his parents, then changed his mind when he remembered it was about two in the morning in Helen's Bay. It was for the best in any case as he recalled the reaction from his mother when he'd told her he was going away for a year. He'd already said his goodbyes at the airport, talking to them again would only make it harder and he wanted to stay positive.  
He cleared the dishes from the table and set them into the sink beside the glass, dimmed the lights in the kitchenette and picked up the folder from the couch. In the small bedroom, he dug a pair of pajama bottoms out of his suitcase which had been brought to his quarters while he'd been suffering through the medical exam, pulled them on and flopped down onto his stomach across the double bed, opening the folder before him. He made it through a total of two more pages before his head dropped onto his arms. 

 

 

“Agent Denehy?”  
His eyes flew open, felt a soft hand at his shoulder. He reached for the folder but it was gone, He rose on his elbows to peer over the edge of the bed.  
“Looking for this?”  
Lily was standing over him, the folder in the crook of her arm. She was dressed the same as she'd been the day before and Colin was given to wonder if she'd even slept.  
“Ah, yeah. I nodded off while I was reading,” Colin rolled over onto his back and sat up, “I'm going to be sore all day fer sure.”  
“It's six-thirty. I'll let you shower I'll be back in twenty minutes to bring you to the briefing,” Lily nodded toward the sitting room, “I left you a set of clothes on the couch.”  
“I've me own clothes,” he jerked a thumb at his suitcase, open on the floor at the end of the bed. “I'm aware, however if you'd read the entire folder, you would know one of the stipulations, with a few exceptions, are the attire we wear while in Asgard,” Lily beamed at him and Colin closed his eyes.  
“You mean we're going in already suited up?”  
Lily handed him the folder, “Yes we are. We try to make as small an impression as possible. If you look like you belong, you'll find you're more readily accepted by the inhabitants of the realm.”  
Colin clutched the folder in front of him like a shield, “I tried to stay awake, honest I did but the flight left me bushed. I'll bring it along to finish, cross mah heart.”  
Lily shook her head, “I'll be back shortly, Mister Denehy.”

 

He shoved his pajama pants into his suitcase and zipped it up, standing for one final look in the mirror over the bathroom sink.  
“I look like Robin Feckin' Hood!” he called to Lily who had returned in a much prettier form fitting dark blue scoop necked gown.  
“Tunics and breeches are standard attire. I find the garments quite comfortable. Now let me give you some background before you get shell shocked.”  
Colin walked into the sitting room, dragging the suitcase behind him, “At least the boots are fair.”  
Lily waved her hand over the panel beside the door which slid open and they stepped out into the corridor.  
“Asgard is a pre-industrial revolution society. Not that they aren't aware of our technology, they merely choose not to use it. For example, there are no washing machines, dryers, televisions, no electricity, no motors of any kind. They cook in an open hearth, use earthen ovens, grind their own flour, use oil lamps, work at trades more suited to a post Medieval society.....”  
“Begging yer pardon, Agent Ercison, but I know what the industrial revolution was...”  
Lily held up her hand, “...but you will encounter anachronisms as well..”  
They had stopped outside a gray door which slid open to reveal a large room with a round table dominating the center.  
Lily stepped back and gestured to the doorway, “After you, Mister Denehy.”

 

Colin knew he was sitting at the table, mouth agape, eyes wide but there was no helping it.  
“Director, could you repeat what you just said?”  
Fury rubbed his forehead, “I said you're going to be the liaison for the royal adviser. Your assignment will be to smooth over relations between the Asgardians and incoming personnel. You will report any immediate and foreseeable problems directly to this agency and you will be required to submit weekly progress reports on the project.”  
Colin sat forward, “Begging yer pardon but I was told I was going in as an agent. What you've just explained to me sounds a bit more like spying.”  
Fury pushed a paper across the table to him, “Use any label you want, Mister Denehy, as long as you do what's expected of you.”  
Colin's hand hovered above the form. If there was ever a time to back out, it was now. He set his jaw, then signed his name with a flourish.  
“Alright then,” Colin thought back to the folder in his suitcase, about the section marked “Protocol and Customs” hoping he was going to have a few more minutes to scan through it but Fury was standing up from the table.  
“I think we're all set then,” he gripped Colin's hand in a firm handshake, “Let's get you two on your way.”

Colin leaned against the wall as the elevator shot upward, “I've a feeling this isn't yer first rodeo.”  
Lily smiled, “And you'd be right.”  
“Tell me, are the Asgardians a forgiving sort?”  
“Occasionally,” she chuckled.  
The door slid open and Colin found himself before the nosecone of a large jet, “An indoor hangar?” his voice echoed in the cavernous room.  
“Yes, the roof is retractable,” she pointed above them, “Follow me.”  
They climbed a set of stairs off to their left, coming to a gray door at the top of the landing where Lily turned to him, “Brace yourself, it gets pretty windy out here.”  
As if to prove her right, the door tore from her hand to slam open against the metal railing. Colin stepped out onto the rooftop, his breeches, tunic pasted to his body. He turned, helped Lily pull the door shut again.  
They walked to the center of the platform, Lily fighting to hold her dress down as she looked up into the clear turquoise sky.  
“Are you ready?”  
He set his suitcase in front of him, “I don't believe so but I doubt it matters.”  
Lily cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted, “Heimdall!”


	2. 2

Colin had closed his eyes when the fabric of the sky was ripped apart by multi-colored daggers of light. Then came a sudden stomach clenching lurch skyward and it took all his composure to hold in the scream that so desperately sought to escape his lips.  
When the world stopped moving and he finally felt flat ground beneath his feet again, he opened his eyes and at once wished he'd kept them shut. Before him was a giant of a man arrayed in burnished dark gold armor plate over leather trappings, his white blond hair done up in a thick braid at his back, beard trimmed neatly at his chin. He stood to one side of a set of high, intricately carved stone doors which had been thrown open to reveal a polished quartz walkway, glittering with the colors of the rainbow. What lay beyond the walkway, however, was what made Colin drop his suitcase with a clunk.  
“I've landed in fecking Disneyland!” he muttered.  
Lily glowered at him as she bowed to the man in front of them, “Thank you Heimdall. This is Agent Colin Denehy.”  
“Indeed,” Heimdall's piercing tawny eyes moved to Colin then back to Lily, “Do they not teach manners at this place you call Shield?”  
“They do. In fact Agent Denehy was about to apologize for his outburst.”  
Colin grunted as Lily drove her elbow into his side, “Begging....hnn!...yer pardon, only I've never seen anything like this before,” He nodded toward the vast city that loomed in the distance.  
Heimdall frowned, “I should say not. Few Midgardians have ever set eyes upon Asgard....present company excluded. Does Milady wish for a cart to be called?” Heimdall bowed to Lily.  
“No thank you, I think we're going to walk.”  
Lily started through the doorway, Colin following close behind. As he passed Heimdall, he heard the creak of leather and he glanced over his shoulder to see the stone gates shut with a thunderous boom.

 

 

Astrid's tears soaked into the shoulder of his tunic as he rubbed her back, stifling a sigh. Why now, of all times, must she choose to beg for my attention?   
“Astrid, my love, I cannot bring you with me to the palace this time. I have much to do.”  
Her sobs had died down to sniffling hiccups but at this reaffirmation, she began to wail again, “Pa...pa...I...shall...b...be g..ood!”  
Loki looked to Eidra who was now hiding a smile behind her hand.  
“You are no help. She is going to wake the whole household,” He muttered, kissing the top of Astrid's head and trying to set her back down on the floor but the child would have no such thing, all at once wrapping her long arms around his neck, clamping her knees about his waist.  
“Astrid,” he gasped before Eidra at last pried her out of his arms and set her down on the floor.  
“PA..PA!” she wailed until Loki knelt once more before her and she flung her arms about him again. He pushed her gently away from him, holding her at arms length.  
“Now listen. I shall bring you a treat if you will but calm yourself. You will visit the palace with me again as soon as I may arrange it.”  
He could hear the rooster crowing in the distance, he should have been gone by now.  
“Do...oo... you sw..ear, Papa?” she hiccuped, her little body a-tremble.  
Loki stroked the black silk of her hair. Even at nearly four seasons, he could see she was going to have no dearth of suitors when she came of age. He bristled at the thought.  
“I swear, my little sparrow,” he kissed her forehead and stood up just as Brenna appeared in the doorway of the sitting room yawning, a shawl wrapped about her shoulders.  
“Gods help me, how can one small child make such a clamor?”  
Eidra leaned forward, putting her hands on Astrid's shoulders, “Your sister wanted to go with your father to the palace today.”  
“I could hear Brynn stirring in his bed as I passed his chamber door. You will have both of them to contend with if she does not hold her tongue,” Brenna lifted Astrid onto her hip, “If you will keep quiet, I will let you lay down with me.”  
Astrid looked to Loki then to Eidra and nodded, snugging her face into the crook of Brenna's neck.  
“And I must be going.” Loki slipped his hand to the back of Eidra's head to plant a lingering kiss upon her lips, the resulting rush burying itself within his loins as he backed from her, “I cannot tell you what to expect when I return tonight, my heart. We too have been kept in the dark.”  
“Whatever happens, we shall deal with it together.”  
Loki held her chin at his fingertips a moment longer, turned and headed for the foyer. Eidra paused in the silence of the sitting room. From the second floor hall, she could hear Brenna's muffled voice as she talked to Astrid. She considered, albeit briefly, returning to the comfort of her bed for a bit longer but it was no use, she was up for the day. She chewed her lip, a list of chores forming in her head until, at last, she headed toward the kitchen to visit with Gretten while he prepared for the day's meals.

 

Loki was off Agathon's back almost before the stallion had come to a complete stop , tossing the reins to the servant boy standing in the courtyard and hurrying up the steps into the palace as the guards rushed to open the doors.  
“Where is the King?” Loki called back to them as he passed.  
“He is in the Great Hall with the High Council, Your Highness.”  
“Damn,” Loki muttered as he broke into a run.

He slid to a stop at the arched doors of the Great Hall, gaining momentum again as the royal guardsman swung them open for him.  
The room fell silent when he strode behind the chairs of the already seated High Council members, ignoring their scathing looks to take his seat beside Thor who whispered, “I am honored you have decided to grace us with your presence, brother.”  
“Astrid awoke and would not let me leave until I promised to bring her with me when next I came to the palace,” Loki grumbled, “I daresay she is persistent.”  
“Mmm, Very well. I shall overlook your tardiness this time.”  
At Thor's gruff reply, Loki jabbed a finger into his side making him flinch, “And what was your excuse the week last? You overslept, I recall?”  
Thor held up a hand to silence him and stood from the long table, “Let us now begin.”

 

Colin sat with his hands folded in his lap, suitcase at his knees, in the same position Lily had placed him when they'd entered the palace. He hadn't been able to stop talking, exclaiming at the architecture, the statuary, the people, everything. Lily had finally guided him to a stone bench with carved dragon head armrests that looked oddly familiar and sat him down.  
“Agent Denehy, if this assignment is too much for you to handle, I can bring you back to the S.H.I.E.L.D office. We really need someone who can focus on their job.”  
Colin had felt properly chided, his enthusiasm dampened, though not extinguished entirely, “I'm yer man but you can't blame me fer being gobsmacked? It's like walking through the pages of a fairy story!”  
“Agent,” Lily leaned over him, “This is where you're going to have to prove it to me. You will sit here quietly and wait to be brought before the High Council. When you walk into the room, you bow first to the king who will be at the center seat....”  
“Thor? The blessed God of thunder?”  
Lily templed her hands before her mouth, “Forget all you know of what you read in the newspapers or books, ignore the reports. Here he is simply the king. You address him as your majesty. Simple as that.”  
“Ah begging yer pardon but what is the High Council?”  
There was movement down the hall and Lily looked up, “The High Council is just what it sounds like, a group of high ranking Asgardians, the Aesir, city officials. They meet to discuss affairs of the kingdom, pass judgment. Picture in your head, Parliament, does that help?”  
“Aye, it does.”  
Lily smiled, her face beaming, “My husband sits on the Council.”  
“Yer married to an Asgardian?!”  
“Yes, does that shock you?”  
Colin rubbed the back of his neck, he'd begun to feel ill at ease in his new clothes, “Ah....the rules stated...”  
“I know....No intimate relations with the residents of this or any other realm will be tolerated..” Lily shrugged, “We were wed long before the rules were made.”  
They waited, watching the people coming and going, not a few of them returning his stare, nodding to Lily as they passed, minutes ticking by at a snails pace.

 

“Midgardians? In my household? Have you gone mad?” Loki hissed at his brother who summarily ignored him, continuing to read the parchment in his hand  
“....It has been deemed necessary for this liaison through my royal adviser, the Prince Regent Loki to smooth relations between the Asgardian people and the coming influx of Midgardians.”  
Loki sat back in his chair, head in his hand, “You said nothing of this when we spoke last evening.”  
Thor leaned over to whisper in his ear, “Would it have made any difference? There is nothing to be done for it if we wish to foster a working relationship between our worlds.”  
Loki sidled away from him,“You are well aware of my opinion on such a relationship. This is a dangerous undertaking. Even you...”  
Thor scowled at him, “We will talk of this later.”  
Loki banged his fist on the arm of his chair, earning looks from a few of the council members which he returned with equal measure as Thor gestured to the guards standing beside the large doors at the end of the hall.   
“Bring in the Midgardian!”

 

The groan of an opening door echoed through the corridor. Colin and Lily looked to their right to see two men dressed in gilded armor, walking towards them.  
Lily nodded, her eyes on the guards, “Come on. It's show time.”

 

Thor had hauled Loki up from his chair when the doors swung open. Now they stood shoulder to shoulder watching Lily enter the Great Hall, followed by a tall thin man dragging behind him a wheeled case which he parked before his legs as he stood to attention before them.  
Lily curtsied, “Your Majesty, I present to you Agent Colin Denehy of Midgard under the employ of our European division. He has been assigned as the liaison to your royal adviser.”   
If Colin had been watching Lily, he would have noticed her glance to her right and wink at a handsome young man with dark blonde hair but his attention was on the two men standing before him. He'd seen pictures of Thor in briefings at the agency, on the television, internet, in the reports he'd read about the S.H.I.E.L.D Avengers Initiative, long since retired. The dark brooding figure to his left, however, could only be one man though why he was there at all so confused Colin that he was left speechless. He'd read all the material which he'd been cleared to read, ending with the imprisonment of the man before him. On the other hand perhaps he'd been pardoned...it had been years since the attack on New York....and this was his home....  
“Agent Denehy,” Lily elbowed him, “The King has spoken to you.”  
He blanched, trying to recall what the king had said, coming up blank, “Forgive me yer Majesty, me mind was somewhere else. It's the shock of it all.”  
Thor frowned, “Then I shall repeat myself. Welcome to the kingdom of Asgard Agent Colin Denehy.”  
“Thank you, yer Majesty,” Colin made a deep bow, heard muffled laughter about the room.  
“I ken your task shall be to assure relations between the Midgardians who will be coming here and my people are congenial, peaceful.”  
“Aye, in a manner of speaking. I'm here to oversee everything is done in accordance with prevailing law here on Asgard, report on the progress of the portal construction, see to it our boys behave. No stepping on any toes and all that,” Colin gripped the handle of his suitcase tighter, “So they sent me along early in order to learn what I needed to do the job right.”  
“It is my wish we will be able to establish an amicable relationship with the people of Midgard so they will learn of our culture firsthand and we will in turn become more familiar with theirs,” Thor picked up a parchment on the table before him, “You have been assigned to my royal adviser, the prince regent, Loki. He will educate you in proper protocol, the ways of our realm, what we expect of the Midgardians, what they can and cannot do while in Asgard. Furthermore, you will be a guest in his household so you might learn how we conduct ourselves in our daily lives. You will see that we are not so different as you may think.”  
Colin released his white-knuckled grip on the suitcase handle as he sought to unglue his tongue from the roof of his mouth. Only when Lily nudged him again did he bow with a mumble, “I will do me level best yer Majesty.”  
Thor nodded, “Then I declare this session of the High Council adjourned.”  
Colin looked to Lily as the council members began to rise and file out of the Hall and a man with dark blond hair make his way towards them. “I wasn't made privy to any of this.”  
“What do you mean? You were told about the assignment.”  
“No I was told feck all....”  
Abruptly his hand was taken up and squeezed, “Welcome to Asgard, Agent Denehy.”  
Colin winced at the iron vise grip as Lily slipped her arm into the crook of the man's elbow, “The pleasure is all mine, Mister....?”  
“This is my husband Garik,” Lily gazed up at him with admiration.  
Colin been about to expound upon how helpful Lily had been when he felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned about to see Thor standing behind him.  
“Yer Majesty,” Colin bowed then looked to Loki who stood beside Thor, his demeanor serious.  
“Yer Highness,” Colin bowed again  
“I have warned my brother to take pity upon you,” Thor rested his other hand on Loki's shoulder though he wrenched himself from Thor's grasp, “I am sure he will be most accommodating,” Thor replaced his hand on Loki's shoulder, harder this time, the meaning clear as he gestured toward Colin with a nod of his head, “You should retire from court early today brother and settle your guest at home.”  
“If nothing else, I will be home before sunset.”  
Colin felt he'd been judged and found wanting when Loki stepped forward, “I will have to provide you with a horse from the stables as well. I did not expect I would return to my house with a guest. Come with me.”  
“Begging yer pardon, yer Highness but...a horse?”  
Loki stopped mid stride, “You can ride can you not?”

 

>


	3. 3

Colin could count on one hand the times he'd been on the back of a horse, two of them included pony rides at the local carnival. He'd mounted the pretty bay well enough but anything faster than a walk quickly proved impossible.  
Colin watched Loki keep his stallion at a trot, doubling back every few minutes to stare at Colin before moving off again. His silence was maddening.  
Finally Colin could stand it no longer, the stress of the last two days loosening his tongue.  
“I hope yer Majesty will fergive me for impeding yer forward progress.”  
Loki pulled his horse up short as if about to speak. Instead he trotted ahead yet again.  
“If you wish, you can ride on ahead. I'll catch up presently.”  
He saw Loki's back stiffen as he turned the horse and waited till Colin was even with him, “Seeing that they are the mode of transportation here on Asgard, was no amount of forethought given upon choosing someone who knew how to ride a horse?”  
“Ah, thank God,” Colin exclaimed, “I thought you were mute.”  
Loki turned to glare at him, “Perhaps you should assume I do not deign to speak with you.”  
Colin sat up straighter in the saddle, “I assume you've a lot of cheek is what I assume. Don't confuse me for one of yer servants.”  
Colin nearly slid from the saddle when Loki's hand shot out and grabbed the bridle of his horse.  
“And do not confuse _me_ for a commoner.”  
Colin could hear his grandfather's voice in his head, _"Col, yer cake hole has always been the weakest part of ye,"_ but there was nothing to be done for it now. If they were going to be at odds, better to get it out of the way early on.  
“And so what's this you'll be teaching me for me first lesson? Manners?”  
Loki shoved the bridle from his hand with a growl leaving Colin to wonder just how powerful this man really was. In all honesty he expected to be flat on his back by now. Either the reports had been wrong or the prince was demonstrating unusual self control.  
“One would not know where to begin. I did not ask for this and I did not expect it.”  
Colin cocked his head, “Expect what?”  
“You!” Loki shouted, “I did not know my home was to be used as an....inn, until I arrived at the Council meeting today and I was certainly unprepared to bring a stranger, a Midgardian at that, to live among my family.”  
Colin kicked his heels into the horse's side to urge him on though the horse never changed his pace.  
“If it makes you feel any better, I'd no clue as to what I was going to be doing until last evening and I didn't know who I was going to be doing it with until a couple hours ago, probably because no one in his right mind would've taken the assignment if they'd known all the details.”  
“And yet,” Loki glanced back at him, “You are still here.”  
“Aye, more's the pity.”  
Colin sensed resignation in the man who slowed to a walk beside him.  
“Where do you hail from? Your speech is similar to that of a close friend.”  
“I come from a little coastal town called Helen's bay, near Belfast...”  
Seeing Loki's blank stare, he added, “Ireland?”  
“I will have to ask Sally from what region she hailed. I cannot recall.”  
“You mean to tell me there are others here from Earth....Midgard....already?” Colin pivoted in his seat.  
Loki shook his head, “Is Lily not from Midgard?”  
“Oh aye, I didn't count her.”  
“You have much to learn about this realm,” Loki turned his horse to the left into a wide lane. Colin, after a couple yanks of the reins, following suit. Far up ahead, framed by the archway of branches overhead, was a grand house.  
“..And it seems you have a lot to teach me,” Colin muttered.

 

“Papa is back!” Cait pressed her nose to the window by the front door, ignoring Astrid who was yanking on the skirt of her pinafore, crying, “Cait, pick me up, I want to see!”  
Brynn was already trying to pull the door open as Eidra and Ingrid rushed into the foyer.  
“Brynn, wait!” Eidra called as the door swung open. She reached for the collar of his tunic to no avail, he was already leaping off the front steps.  
“Papa!”

Loki had dismounted, now he turned to Colin, “Brace yourself. It shall be quite loud....damn!”  
“What's wrong?” Colin was trying to work the knots from the handle of his suitcase where it'd been tied to the satchel.  
“I was to bring a treat for my youngest daughter. Suffice it to say, I was greatly distracted. I shall have to answer for it.”  
Colin lifted the suitcase to the ground in time to see a small boy wrap his arms about Loki's legs with a squeal, “Papa! You are home already!”  
Colin stood back, watching the house empty in a seeming endless flow of children and adults, all of them aiming for the sullen man he'd just rode a good hour alongside. The transformation once surrounded by his family was nothing short of miraculous.  
“I am sorry my little sparrow,” he was speaking to a raven haired child, “There was much happening at the palace today. I swear I shall make it up to you. I will bring you with me to the palace on the morrow.”  
“You will? Mama, may I wear my green dress with the gold ribbons on the front?”  
The girl had turned to look up at an ethereally lovely woman in a simple dress, holding an older girl by the hand.  
“Astrid, we will discuss this later,” The woman was staring at Loki who now stood and nodded to Colin.  
“Eidra, we will be having a guest for the time being. Ingrid?”  
The young woman beside Eidra gave a short curtsey, “Yes, Milord?”  
“Will you help Vesta set up one of the rooms for Master Denehy?”  
“Yes Milord. Milady, will you watch Edie for me?” Ingrid bent down to the toddler whose hand she'd been holding, guiding her to Eidra's side.  
“By all means,” Eidra took the little girl's hand as Ingrid hurried away into the manor.  
Loki held out a hand to Eidra who stepped forward, “This is my wife, Eidra.”  
Eidra nodded to Colin who returned the gesture, taking in her chestnut hair and sparkling blue eyes, the ruddy glow of her beaming face.  
“Colin Denehy, at yer service, Madam,”  
“And these are my youngest children, Astrid..,” Loki looked at the child on his hip who all at once tried to bury her face in his collar, “Her twin brother, Brynn, who is currently holding me captive,” Then he tilted his head to Eidra where another beauty with dark hair peered out from behind her skirts, “And little Cait.”  
“Begging yer pardon but just how many children do you have?”  
Loki set Astrid down though she clung tightly to the hem of his tunic, “I have five all told. I would have six but our first son died at birth,” Loki's face darkened momentarily as he looked to Eidra, “Where are Brenna and Fen?”  
Eidra glanced behind her at the house, “Brenna was in her bedroom reading when last I saw her. Fen is off somewhere with Gunnar. Come inside so you may meet the rest of the household.”  
Colin looked about the yard then to Loki who had Astrid on his hip, “Have you enough room?”  
Loki gestured to the grand house and for the first time, he smiled, “More than enough.”  
Colin picked up his suitcase and followed the group inside, fielding looks from Astrid and Brynn. Cait wouldn't give him so much as a peek, holding Eidra's hand, staying close to her side.  
When Colin made the first stone step before the doorway, a movement to the right caught his eye and he turned his head. Standing at the window looking inside with a wide smile was a portly older man with white hair and a beard reminiscent of Saint Nick. He peered in through the doorway, meaning to call to Loki but they'd gotten ahead of him. He turned again to ask the man who he was but he had disappeared.  
 _I've got to deal with them here as well? Bleedin' Christ._  
He rushed inside to catch up, finding the group in a large room to his right, “Sorry, I was taking it all in.”  
Standing beside Loki were a man and woman who looked to be in their thirties. The man was thin, with a pinched, serious face and thinning hair. He had a nervous air about him. The woman at his side was small, mousy. She kept her eyes trained on the floor in front of her.  
“Master Denehy, this is Hal, my valet and his wife Vesta. She is our maidservant.”  
Hal gave him a tic of a smile and a bow, “Pleased to meet you.”  
They all turned when a rough voice sounded from the next room, “Why must I greet him? I am the cook!”  
Moments later, a short bald bearded tree trunk of a man dressed in a flour dusted tunic and breeches tromped into the room followed by Eidra. He walked up to Colin and held his chubby hand outstretched. “I am Gretten, the house cook.”  
“Colin Denehy, the house guest,” Colin shook the man's hand and was rewarded with a half grin which quickly slipped away as he turned to Eidra, “Now may I have leave to return to my work before the evening meal is ruined?”  
“Yes, and thank you, Gretten.”  
Colin heard slow footsteps accompanied by the thump of a cane and turned to see an elderly woman enter the room from the foyer. Eidra met her halfway, guiding her to Colin, “This is Helgi, Master Denehy.”  
The elderly woman squinted up at Colin but if he had any doubt that her faculties were as frail as her body, he was swiftly proved wrong, “You are as tall as Loki. It is about time someone was able to look him in the eye.”  
“Ah, I think he's got an inch or two on me still, little mother,” Colin chuckled for he could see the entire household held her in high regard as even Loki drifted to her side to guide her into one of the chairs before the fireplace that dominated one wall of the sitting room.  
“Such a polite young man you are. Tell me where do you hail from?”  
Colin hesitated, saw Loki nod to him, “Midgard.”  
“Midgard!?” she cried, sitting forward, “Whatever are you doing here?”  
“He's to be a guest in our house for a bit, Helgi,” Loki leaned over to her like a patient son, “He is here to learn the ways of the Asgardians.”  
Helgi crooked her finger at Colin who hesitated then approached her, “Perhaps you will teach Loki a bit about the Midgardians then?”  
Colin bit his lip hard as Loki rolled his eyes to the ceiling, “I plan on it, little mother.”  
“Why was I not invited to the party?”  
Colin looked up then into a pair of the prettiest blue eyes he'd ever seen.  
“...and this is my eldest daughter, Brenna.” Loki draped his arm around Brenna's shoulders, “Brenna, this is Colin Denehy. He is an agent with S.H.I.E.L.D.”  
Colin took Brenna's outstretched hand with a bow, “European division. A pleasure to meet you.”  
Brenna smiled as she let his hand loose, “To what do we owe the honor of this visit?”  
“He is going to be our guest.” Eidra waved Brenna to her, “For a time.”  
Loki clapped his hands together, breaking the spell which seemed to have come over his house guest and his eldest daughter, “The only child you have not met is Fen but that will come later. Vesta will show you to your room and let you settle in.”  
As he picked up his suitcase, prepared to follow Vesta, he heard Eidra whisper to Loki and he could scarce believe his ears.  
“An bhfaca tú an mbealach a d'fhéach siad ar a chéile?”  
Colin was a bit rusty. The last time he'd heard the language had been in finishing school but he knew she had spoken gaelic and after a moment he was able to decipher more or less what she'd said,  
 _“Did you see the way they looked at one another?”_  
Colin felt a hand at his elbow, it was Vesta, “Are you well, Master Denehy?”  
“Fergive me, I was...distracted,” he listened for a response from Loki but if he'd replied it had been lost in Ingrid's question. He considered telling them that he could understand what they were saying, asking them how they knew the language, then decided he'd keep his advantage for just a while longer. If being an agent had taught him nothing else, it had taught him when to play show and tell and when to keep his mouth shut.

 

“Come on Fen. It is almost sunset, we shall be late for the evening meal!”  
Fen stood poised, his arm canted back, lance hefted above his shoulder, “Once more, Gunnar and then we will go.”  
With a grunt, he threw the lance forward, hearing it strike the tree trunk with a thunk!  
He was off and running, Gunnar close behind. They both made the tree seconds later, Fen striking the bark with his hand.  
“I have still missed my mark!” He yanked the lance out of the tree, repressing the urge to snap it in half, then felt a hand on his arm.  
“The light is fading, we have been at this all day, we are tired and hungry. Do not expect to be at your best now. The ritual will be different, you will be well prepared.”  
“Are you certain, Gunnar? You said you did not have an easy time of it.”  
Gunnar pulled him along as he replied, “If it were easy, what would the ritual prove? Now we must go, hurry!”  
Fen smiled as he broke into a run beside Gunnar. From the day they'd first met, the boys had been inseparable though Gunnar was seasons older. Fen worshipped him and it was fair to say Gunnar felt much the same way about Fen.  
Two seasons past had seen Gunnar's coming of age ritual. He was now considered a man though to hear his mother plead with his father to leave him stay at the manor house with her, one would never know it.  
Gunnar pulled up short, causing Fen to stumble, reaching for a sapling to prevent himself from tumbling to the ground, “Gunnar, Gods! Could you not..”  
“SHH!” Gunnar held up his hand.  
On the wind came the faint cry, “Fen! Gunnar!”  
“Troll's spend! They are calling us!” Gunnar groaned as the two boys started off again, “We will surely answer for it now.”

 

Colin lay on the bed staring up at the ceiling, mulling over the events of the day, trying to assuage the guilt he felt at deceiving his hosts compounded with the information mining he'd done with Ingrid.  
Ingrid had met him upstairs in a sparsely appointed room. There was a simple wooden framed bed, a writing desk and a wardrobe. A fireplace fit into the wall opposite the foot of the bed but it looked not to have been used for some time. He had used that fact as a starting point to ask questions of the young woman. He always found the hired help were more forthcoming with information. He stood to the side watching her as she prepared the room.  
“Don't seem to get much company here do you?”  
“We have company from time to time,” Ingrid pulled out the bottom drawer of the wardrobe, lifting out a set of linen sheets and handing them to the little girl at her side, pointing to the bed  
“Is she yers?” Colin watched the child struggle with her load.  
“Yes.”  
Ingrid opened a linen sheet and lay it atop what passed for a mattress atop what looked more like a large stitched potato sack, “What, pray tell, is the mattress made of?”  
“Mattress?” she looked about the room.  
Colin put his hands to his temples, finally coming up with another word.  
“...uh, bedding?”  
He knew he'd made sense then when Ingrid smiled, “Oh, there is a sack with straw ticking which we change each season at the bottom and the upper layer...” she giggled, “...you call it a mattress?”  
“Aye,” he patted the top, “Mattress.”  
“The mattress is filled with down feathers which we also change...”  
“Because over time it flattens out,” Colin finished, “Me granny had a down mattress herself to ease her lumbago.”  
Ingrid regarded him curiously, “Whatever is Lumbago?”  
“Bad back,” Colin took a corner of the sheet and attempted to help her tuck in the corners but she gently pushed him to the side.  
“Do not take away my job, Master Denehy.”  
Colin folded his hands before him, “And just what is yer job, might I ask?”  
Ingrid shook open a brocaded coverlet and spread it on the bed, “I am a companion to the lady of the house but I have my duties as well. What in your world would mean a woman who helps raise the children and does other chores about the house?”  
Colin raised an eyebrow, “A nanny?”  
“Such strange words you Midgardians use. Then I am a..nanny.”  
“Who was the old woman I met downstairs? Is she related to the family?”  
Ingrid had returned to the wardrobe to fetch a couple of pillows, now she turned to him,“Helgi? She was the staff cook at the palace many years ago. Eidra and Loki bade her come live with them,” She paused, seemed to consider her words, then continued, “You ask if she is related. I say she is in all but blood. She has been like a mother to Eidra.”  
Colin was surprised at her familiarity with her employers, wondering how much more he could glean from her when he noticed little Edie had moved to Ingrid's side and was tugging on her dress.  
“She's a quiet tot. What did you say her name was?”  
Ingrid grinned sadly, stroking the little girl's hair, “Edie. She can neither hear nor speak.”  
“How do you communicate then? Does she sign?” Colin squatted down before the child who was now backed up against Ingrid's hip.  
“Sign?”  
“Aye, we've something on Midgard called sign language which is used to speak to people like Edie. It's comprised of hand gestures and movements,” Colin put his right hand out to his forehead like a salute and brought his hand away, “Can you tell her I said hello?”  
Ingrid shook her head, “She cannot hear me...,”  
“I mean the gesture I just made. It means hello in sign language,” he repeated the action but when Ingrid fell mute, Colin nodded and stood, “It's fine, fine. You know, I could procure a book of sign language for you from Midgard.”  
Ingrid gazed at Edie who was now watching Colin intently.  
“She could even be taught to speak..,” he let the information sink in.  
“Speak? With Midgardian magic?”  
Colin shook his head, “Not magic, science. It only seems like magic. Perhaps she could be made to hear as well. She could see a physician on Midgard, he could determine the cause of her hearing loss..”  
Ingrid pulled Edie to her and he knew then he'd given her too much to process, “I could not bring her to Midgard, my husband would never allow such a venture.”  
“My apologies,” he clasped his hands before him, “I've overstepped me bounds. I'll fetch you the book if you like.”  
Ingrid relaxed her grip on Edie, gave him a nervous smile, “I would at that.”  
She said she would call him for the evening meal and left him to settle in. He'd thought of asking her whether he was free to roam the grounds in the meantime but as he sat down on the bed, fatigue began to overtake him. He got back up, opened his suitcase and withdrew his tablet, sat it on the writing desk, opened the solar charger and placed it on the windowsill then dropped back onto the bed. He was asleep before he could kick his boots off.

A soft rapping at the bedchamber door made him scramble to sit up as a tremulous, reedy voice came from the other side, “'Tis Vesta. The evening meal will be served soon, Master Denehy.”  
“Thankee, madam.” Colin rubbed his face, scanning the room, “I'll be down presently.”  
Colin listened to her footsteps retreat down the corridor, then he stretched and stood up, “Well here we go, ready for round two.”

 

First Gunnar then Fen dove through the back entryway into the kitchen nearly knocking Eidra to the floor in their haste. She caught herself on the counter as Gretten raised the bread paddle, brandishing it at them, “What are you thinking? Worrying your parents so! Making me keep the evening meal.”  
Regaining her footing, Eidra straightened her dress, “Thank you Gretten, I will take it from here.”  
Gunnar poked Fen in the ribs and gestured toward the floor as they both hung their heads.  
“Forgive us, Milady,” Gunnar held his hand to his chest, “We were practicing with the lance or rather Fen was. We did not know it had grown so late.”  
Ingrid came sailing through the doorway from the dining room, “Gunnar, Your father was ready to ride out and fetch you.”  
Eidra nodded to Fen, “We will discuss your whereabouts after the evening meal. Now, wash the dirt from your hands and join us at the table, we have a guest. Gretten, please serve the meal.”

 

Colin sat in the uncomfortable silence that had descended upon the table when Eidra finally rose to call for her son once more. Even the youngest children turned in their chairs to watch the kitchen doorway. He stared into the green and gold chased plate before him on the table, suppressing a chuckle as he called to mind once again the stories in his grandfather's mythology book. How the Norse gods would feast off a magical boar each night which would be reborn each day to be slain again for food, and the golden apples picked by the goddess Idun which were supposed to give the gift of eternal youth. Colin stole a glance at the wooden bowl of apples before him, they look like plain apples to me.  
He heard the scrape of chairs being drawn back and looked up to see two young boys staring at him across the table.  
“I see you have decided to grace us with your presence.” Loki muttered, glaring at them both.  
“I am sorry, Papa.” the boy with the black hair replied, his chin buried in his chest, “We lost track of time.”  
“I tried to tell him we would be late,” his companion exclaimed.  
“Gunnar, mind your manners.”  
Colin looked to the muscular man sitting beside Ingrid who was now fixing Gunnar with a stern look. Curse his horrible memory. He'd only just been introduced to him moments before. What was his name?  
“Forgive me, Father.”  
“Master Denehy, this is my son Fen,” Loki broke in, “and his friend, Gunnar, Silas's oldest boy...”  
 _“Aha, Silas! That was it.”_  
“.....Now if there will be no further interruption, let us begin.”  
Vesta and Hal walked out of the kitchen followed by Gretten carrying a large serving platter piled high with sliced meat.  
“Roast beef,” he heard a whisper to his left and turned to see Brenna smiling at him behind Helgi's head, “If you were worried.”  
Colin felt his face warm, made more so when Helgi fixed him with a withering glance and he returned his attention to the table, though not before he heard a quiet chuckle as Vesta set a slab of meat down on his plate.

Colin sat back, studying the carving on the arms of the chair, feeling very full, wishing the topic of discussion would continue on its present tack. He would much rather talk of the weather, listen to the men discuss the growing season or the next festival at the palace while the women cleared the table but he was sure the talk would soon drift to him. The food had been outstanding even if it had been a bit simple. Were he to call it anything, it would be peasant fare, good, hearty, calorie rich as he'd expected in an agrarian society. He'd eaten one of the apples and though it had been delicious, tart and crisp, it was indeed simply an apple. The ale had been fine, in fact almost too fine and he'd had to stop himself at the second mug especially when he looked toward the far end of the table and saw the jolly white haired man sitting in one of the chairs appearing to be listening intently to the banter between Loki and Silas. Alcohol always tended to thin the veil between the world of the living and the dead.  
Colin smiled at the apparition who summarily ignored him though he was certain he'd seen the man's eyes show a glimmer of acknowledgment.  
“Master Denehy?”  
Colin pivoted in his chair, trying to look more balanced than he felt, “Aye?”  
“Perhaps our ale is a bit too strong for your Midgardian constitution.” Silas held his mug out to Colin.  
“If only I'd been able to smuggle over some Black Bush or a few bottles a Guinness, I'd wager you'd be tits up before long,” His tongue felt slightly furry, out of place. He pushed his mug away from him, turned and gave a shout as he came face to face with a pair of brown eyes staring at him over the arm of his chair.  
“Astrid, come here,” Loki crooked a finger to his youngest daughter as he leaned back to peer into the kitchen, “Eidra, are you missing someone?”  
Astrid climbed up into Loki's lap and started to play with the long braid that hungover his shoulder until Ingrid trotted into the dining room to scoop her up from Loki's lap, “We were talking to Gretten about the next day's meals, forgive me.”  
“I want to stay..,” Astrid whined, reaching for Loki, her pleas falling on deaf ears as Ingrid carried the child back into the kitchen, whispering in her ear,“It is nearly time for bed,”  
Colin saw Loki wave to the tot over Ingrid's shoulder and he was struck again by the strong sense of family.  
“If you don't mind me saying, yer home isn't what I was led to expect.”  
Loki sat back in his chair, templing his hands before him, “And I am led to wonder whether the unexpected was found in the home or the host.”  
“I admit, I didn't know you were a family man, I can't say it no plainer.”  
He glanced toward the kitchen in time to see Brenna walk through the doorway with Astrid on her hip and Brynn clutching her hand, Edie and Cait in tow. She smiled at him as she passed the table.  
“There is much you do not know of me and I am sure that what you do know has only been gleaned from newspapers and your agency's reports.”  
Colin nodded, “...and you would be correct, yer Highness. Tell me, upon what do you base yer opinion of Midgardians?”  
“Experience,” Loki sloshed the contents of his mug about, took a sip, “Most of it unpleasant.”  
Colin thought to point out the reason for those unpleasant experiences, instead he drained the rest of his mug and sat forward in the chair.  
“I hope it doesn't color yer future encounters, it'd make me job all that much harder.”  
“I shall do my best to govern myself accordingly as long as your people comply with our customs,” Loki stood from the table, “It is time to retire. We must be off early for the palace in the morning.”  
Colin rose from the chair and bowed, holding onto the back until he felt his feet securely under him, “Thank you for yer gracious hospitality.”  
Loki gave a small nod, “See to it that you fetch a lantern from the kitchen to find your way up the stairs.”

Colin sat the lantern on the writing desk, unzipped the front pouch of his suitcase and took out the small halogen clip. He pushed the button on the top, set it beside the lantern and the whole room was suddenly awash in blue white light. Only then did he open the glass door of the lantern and blow the candle out. No use being wasteful.  
The small solar charger in the window was glowing green. Colin unhooked it, slid the small square back into the suitcase. He knew he was supposed to write in his logs about the day's events but he found he couldn't concentrate. He sat at the writing desk, listening to the sounds of the house, the small voice of a child, the closing of a door, trying to concentrate on the proper words to start with but it was no use. He shut down the tablet and crawled onto the soft mattress, his last thought for the evening, _"one down three hundred sixty-four to go."_


	4. 4

“For the final time, I shall drive the wagon!”  
Colin splashed the water from the wash basin onto his face, clearing the last of the shaving lotion, grabbed the towel from the stand and walked to the window. Down in the courtyard, Loki and his eldest daughter were standing.

“I do not see why it matters if I drive the wagon. I am perfectly capable...”  
Brenna had her arms crossed before her. Loki knew the stance, Brenna was ready for an argument.  
“It matters because we will have our guest and Astrid as well,” Loki yanked on the harnesses to make sure they were secure.  
“I need a better excuse. Come on, try harder.” She bent down to look underneath Lightning's belly where her father was now tightening a strap, grinding his teeth, trying not to explode.  
“No? Then I will make one for you,” She stood back up glaring at him across Lightning's back, “How about this? Brenna I do not want you talking to our new guest. Remember we mustn't fraternize with him, he is a Midgardian after all.”  
When Loki slammed the side of the wagon with his hand, she knew she'd hit on it.  
“So tell me Papa, should I move to the palace for the duration of his stay? I would not wish to be guilty of congeniality. I do not see how he is any different from my Midgardian friends with whom I have spent many seasons....is it because he is an agent?”  
“Brenna! Stop baiting me for that is all you are doing!” Loki strode to the front of the wagon where Brenna met him.  
“I am telling you the truth!”  
A loud clap made them turn toward the house where Eidra stood in the doorway, “The morning meal is waiting. Brenna will you go help Helgi and Ingrid? Astrid is about to burst with excitement and you know how she is.”  
Brenna scowled as she tromped past Eidra into the house but when Loki reached the steps, Eidra put a hand to his chest, “What, pray tell, is the trouble this time?”  
She watched Loki try his best to put on an impassive face, “She wished to drive the wagon this morning and I denied her request.”  
“Why?” Eidra put her hands on her hips, barring the door.  
“Because she is just a girl. What if Lightning should be spooked?” He made to slip around Eidra but she moved to stop him.  
“Eidra,” he groaned, “I have much to do today and I do not wish to do it on an empty stomach.”  
“Then tell me why you do not wish her to take the reins of a wagon she has driven since she was ten seasons.”  
Loki looked up at Eidra, angry that she knew he wasn't telling her the truth, wondering if it was a mother's instinct or living with him for better than fifteen seasons which gave her the edge, “Because our guest will be riding in the wagon and I do not wish her to engage him in conversation.”  
Eidra stared at him, “What would you have her do? Move to the palace until he leaves? She has spoken to many Midgardians in her time.”  
“Now you sound like her,” Once again he tried to move around Eidra but this time she wrapped her arms about his waist. He sought briefly to disentangle himself from her grasp before finally heaving a great sigh, draping his arms around her shoulders.  
“You are aware I greatly dislike your tactics.”  
Eidra smiled up at him, “So drive the wagon today but know this. You said the night last that he would be here for at least an entire season. It is inevitable, she will talk to him. It would be terribly impolite not to do so and a princess should always be polite.”  
Loki kissed the top of her head, “My heart, must you always be correct?”  
She buried her face in his chest, tightening her grip, “Yes.”

 

“Papa! Make Lightning run!” Astrid yanked on his arm.  
“No. If you wish to go faster, call to Brenna and see if she will let you ride Agathon with her.”  
Astrid twisted in the seat of the wagon, looking behind her to where Brenna trotted along beside them, sullen.  
Colin on instinct put his hand out to steady the girl perched on the seat between them, “Forgive me for being forward but I couldn't help hearing the row this morning, seeing it was right under me window.”  
Loki glanced at him, “You are direct.”  
“Blunt, grandad called it. I can be tactful. I just don't believe in talking a lot of shite.”  
Loki raised his hand and waved behind him. As Brenna drew closer to the wagon, he reined in Lightning. “Let Astrid ride with you for a bit.”  
Brenna held out her hands as Loki handed the excited child over, “Mind you sit still for your sister, my little sparrow, or she will surely clip your wings.”  
Astrid giggled as she reached for the reins and shook them, clucking her tongue.  
“I steer the horse,” Brenna chided, taking the reins in her hand though she allowed her sister to hold them as well.  
When they were started off again, Loki seemed to relax a bit, “Astrid is a sponge. She soaks up the tiniest detail. Brenna is my headstrong child.”  
“Aye, firstborns usually are, at least from what I've been told.”  
Loki tilted his head, “I do not ken.”  
“Ken? Been an age since I heard that word. There are people say yer birth order determines yer temperament.”  
“Then it would also explain my brother. Tell me, if you be so blunt, as you call it, what Asgard might expect of the coming deluge.”  
Colin sat straighter in the seat. If he had not managed to read all the paperwork pertaining to Asgard itself, he had in the very least, read thoroughly about the project Stark Industries would be initiating in a few days. He also knew he would need to tread lightly.  
“If you'll be more specific, I'll do me best to answer yer questions.” Colin draped his arm over the backrest of the seat.  
Loki let the farmland pass for a minute or two, “The first wave. I spoke with Stark last season when he first presented his project plans to the High Council. He made it seem as though his intentions were purely scientific. He told us the first wave would be composed of scientists, primarily for the construction of the two portals, but also would there be scientists to study our culture, our foodways. He made a statement somewhat to the effect of calling Asgard a living history museum.”  
“Aye, that sounds about right. Asgard is based first and foremost on the Viking culture. We know, or rather we knew little about them so this has been looked upon as an unimaginable opportunity.”  
Loki nodded to a wagon passing in the opposite direction, “Stark has seldom focused on an opportunity that does not further his personal interests and I do not recall cultural enrichment as being high on his list.”  
“He is, if you will, the conduit. That he'll profit from it, I've no doubt but this is why I've been sent here, to assure that his interests don't override the interests of yer own people. There will be some adaptation. Others like meself will be dispersed into your communities to learn, to document and record yer ways and they will be subject to strict rules while in Asgard. Does that answer yer question?”  
“It tells me what I already expected. What will happen to people who break the rules?”  
Colin shifted in his seat, “They'll be sent back to Midgard and removed from the program.”  
“But the damage will already have been done, what then?”  
“With any luck, incidents will be few and far between.”  
Loki turned to stare at him, “However, there shall be incidents.”  
“Aye, nothing is inevitable. I'll not lie to you.”  
He watched Loki's face darken, “I am greatly concerned.”  
Colin tapped the back of the seat.“We'll do the best we can.” As he trained his attention on the landscape however, he could only think, _"So am I._

 

He'd had little time to look around the day before, so quickly had he been handed over to Loki and so he took everything in with equal interest as they rolled through the city streets toward the gates of the palace proper.  
Stark had phrased it correctly, a living history museum. If he hadn't been reminded when he awoke in the middle of the evening to take a piss and was forced to use the chamber pot then seeing the citizens of Asgard go about their daily lives was a firm reminder that he'd essentially stepped back in time.  
As they passed by, citizens stopped and bowed to the wagon, greeting them with calls of, _“Your Highness,”_ and _“Milord.”_ Children ran behind the wagon yelling and laughing, making him wish he'd something to throw them, some coins or a bit of chocolate but among the many rules he'd read, there was one which stated that there should be no random dissemination of Midgardian goods unless pre-approved by the Asgardian Council. He'd concluded long ago that the rule makers of the world sat about all day figuring ways to sap the joy out of life.  
They had been traveling perpendicular to the palace down narrow lanes which started gradually to widen until at last they entered what seemed a vast open area at the convergence of a good number of lanes and streets, the parapets of the palace taking center stage at one end, the spires rising glistening into the sky. Colin was reminded of St. Peter's square in Rome as he took in the great fountain at its center.  
“Who's the chap in the center of the pool makin' like Moses?” Colin looked up at the sculpture as they passed.  
“Moses, I have not heard that name in a number of years.”  
Colin turned to him, “You've heard it at all?”  
“Chris used to try his best to convert me to the Midgardian's Christian religion. What I would not give to have him here once more to tease me about your remark.”  
“He's passed on then? This Chris?”  
Loki nodded, “He was a dear friend, and he would be more than amused that you have likened my father's image to a Midgardian prophet. Odin posed for this fountain when I was but a babe in arms.”  
Colin scanned the sea of people milling about the square, talking, trading at small carts and stands, making music with instruments, fiddles, flutes, a deep bass drum.  
“This friend of yers,” Colin ventured, “Was he white haired?”  
Loki cast him a curious glance, “Yes he was, what gave you to ask such a question?”  
He knew he'd once again opened his mouth too wide, “Ah, I figured if he were passed on, he must be an old man,” He was digging deep and he waited for Loki to call him on it but he simply nodded.  
“Quite old in fact. Our friend Sally was his wife.”  
As they came to the steps of the palace, servants waved a path through the crowd. Loki swiveled around in his seat to make sure Brenna was still behind him.  
“The celebration of the summer solstice will be upon us within a few days. This is the reason for all the activity.” Loki hopped down from the wagon and walked to where Brenna had halted her horse. She handed down Astrid who was trying to turn in all directions, her mouth open in a great O when not filled with words.  
“Papa, so many people! The man has pups, might we have one? Will we see grandmother? Where is the king?”  
As Brenna dismounted from Agathon, Colin gave his hand to steady her.  
“Thank you, Master Denehy.”  
“My pleasure,” Colin made a slight bow, “..will you be tagging along with us now?”  
The voice at his ear made him jump, “She will be taking Astrid and visiting Lady Jane for her lessons. We have a formal visit to make and then we will be off to inspect the longhouses.”  
Colin straightened up, “Ah then it's off to yer lessons with you.”  
Brenna smiled then and Colin felt like his face was lit with fire, “Wave bye to Papa.”  
Astrid gave a half hearted wave, still gazing about the courtyard as they walked up the wide steps through the palace doors.  
As they swung closed behind them, the outside sounds faded into a low rumble. Brenna and Astrid headed off down one corridor while Colin followed Loki through the halls until they came to a set of double doors which he flung open, “This was my old bedchamber. When I returned to serve my brother, I had another bed made for the room as the original is in my chambers at the manor house. I seldom stay overnight, Eidra is adamant that I am home each evening.”  
Colin tried to take it all in. The grandeur of the room, the marble floors, huge fireplace, balcony overlooking the city, rich drapes, gleaming wood. Loki walked to a wide wardrobe and opened the doors.  
“You are to meet my mother and father and I wish you to seem respectable. The tailors from Midgard have given you peasant clothing. You'd do better to wear your own strange garb but seeing as you are close in stature to myself, you should fit into a finer cut from my wardrobe. Come here.”  
He was again surprised at the amiability of the man before him though he knew not to let his guard down so soon.  
“Here, take these garments and put them on.”  
Loki handed him a lightweight shirt that felt made of silk and a pair of soft breeches.  
“Where do you want me to change, might I ask?” Colin scanned the room, wondering if he was going to be expected to strip in front of the prince.  
“Over here, behind these screens,” Loki guided him to a length of tall brocaded panels near an open door. Colin peeked in to find a sumptuously appointed bath with gilded mirrors on the wall.  
“My bathing room,” Loki looked over his shoulder, “Make haste, I do not wish to keep the King and Queen waiting.”  
Minutes later, Colin was standing before Loki, adjusting his tunic.  
“Much better. Now we will find Thor so we might introduce you to the rest of the royal family. I must warn you, the Allfather's mind has become enfeebled. He is largely bedridden now. Do be aware of this and pardon him his indiscretion beforehand.”  
As Colin followed Loki out of the bedroom, he took one more look into the chamber. There beside the wardrobe stood the white haired man but this time he was staring pointedly at Colin who shivered at the intensity of his stare. The man then turned about and patted the wall just to his right. In the morning light from the balcony, Colin could barely make out what appeared to be the seam of a tightly fit door. It seemed to have been made to blend into the décor and Colin would never have noticed it on his own.  
“Master Denehy, hurry along. We have much to do today.” Loki called from the corridor. When Colin turned to look once more, as he expected, the man had vanished. Colin frowned, closing the bedchamber door behind him.

“Keep in mind that our father is not in full possession of his wits, Master Denehy.” Thor murmured as they stood before a set of gilded wooden doors, “Take not what he says too much to heart.”  
Colin felt his heart racing, “So I've been told, yer Majesty, only don't build me up too much, I'm already on pins.”  
Thor gave a nod and the guards swung the doors wide for them, the man closest to Colin bellowing their arrival, “Crown Prince Thor, Prince Regent Loki and guest!”  
A handsome older woman stood from her chair beside a grand bed made of blond polished wood. Nestled beneath coverlets piled high lay the remnants of a robust giant of a man. Colin thought of his grandfather as he followed Thor and Loki across the large chamber to the side of the bed.  
“Mother, Father,” Thor gestured to Colin, “I wish to present to you the Midgardian Agent Colin Denehy. Colin, my mother, Queen Frigga and my father, Odin, Ruler of Asgard.”  
Colin stepped forward, bowing low first to Frigga, then to Odin who had fixed him with his one good eye. “Yer Majesties, thank you for yer gracious hospitality.”  
Odin grunted, struggling to sit up further in bed. Frigga took his arm and pulled him forward to rearrange the pillows behind him until he was upright at the headboard.  
“Denehy is it?”  
“Aye, yer Majesty,” Colin looked to Frigga whose smile belied her concern.  
“So you are here to see that Asgard is safe for the Midgardians?”  
Colin was taken aback, Odin seemed to have a keen grasp of what was going on so far.  
“Our agency will be doing the same on Midgard, yer Majesty, in preparation for visitors from Asgard. Our aim is to establish a solid connection between....realms...perhaps for commerce, most definitely for cultural studies.”  
Odin dismissed his diatribe with a wave of his gnarled hand, “You seek to demystify our world.”  
“Begging yer pardon, yer Majesty? Demystify?”  
“Once our culture has been studied, dissected, we will no longer be seen as a superior race, rather we will be seen as....” Odin scowled, “Equals.”  
“With due respect, yer Majesty, we are already equal in many respects, made of the same stuff you might say..” He saw Frigga give an imperceptible shake of her head as he continued on, duly turned from the tack his speech was taking, “Of course with a few exceptions to quality, but that's what we're here to determine, why yer people are so different from us.”  
Odin leaned forward, his blue eyes hooded, menacing, “We are not equal. You are a weak, barbaric, crude people given to greed and infighting. We seek harmony with the elements, land, sky, the ocean. We do not take from the soil but that we return to it tenfold. We have power beyond your comprehension, did not the Tesseract undoubtedly prove this? I would think your kind would wish to keep our worlds quite separate.”  
“Ah,” Colin clasped his hands behind his back unwilling to point out to the Allfather that the ancient Midgardians who worshipped the Asgardian race had defined the very word, barbarian, “It's rather out of me hands. Unless you could think of a very valid argument, events have already been set in motion.”  
Odin leaned back into the pillows in seeming defeat, “So I have been told.”  
He closed his eyes, laying his head back until very soon after he began to snore. Frigga gestured to the doors, “I think that is your lot today. Let us repair to the corridor to talk, shall we?”

As they walked along the halls of the palace, Colin found Frigga much more spry than Odin, asking harder questions. How many people would arrive with the first wave, how long the project would take to finish, what the extended plans were? Colin made his best effort to answer judiciously until Frigga appeared satisfied. At last they stopped before an ornate set of low arched doors.  
“I believe I am going to retire until the evening meal. I thank you for humoring an old woman.”  
“Yer Majesty, 'twas no trouble.”  
Frigga took Loki by the arm, “Is my son being an accommodating host to you?”  
Colin nodded, “Most gracious seeing he's got his hands so full most of the time.”  
Frigga laughed, looking up at her younger son, “Indeed, tell me, will you be joining us for the evening feast this night?”  
“It is doubtful, Mother,” Loki patted her hand, “I wish to be home early again, however, much shall depend on our schedule.”  
Frigga loosed her grip on Loki's arm, taking Thor's instead, “Then I shall let you away. It was a pleasure to meet you, Master Denehy.”  
Colin bowed, “The pleasure was all mine, yer Majesty.”  
As the bedchamber door closed behind her, Loki clapped his hands together, “The visit went better than expected. Brother, will you be accompanying us to the longhouses?”  
“I will. I have not ridden yet today.”  
“My guest cannot yet properly ride a horse. I will take the wagon but mark my words, Colin,” Loki turned to him, “You shall learn to ride before the next moon.”

 

Jane put the tip of her pricked index finger in her mouth to stem the droplets of blood, “Damnit. I don't think I'll ever get the hang of this.”  
The seamstress at her side patted her shoulder, “You will in time. How much sewing had you done before this?”  
Jane grimaced, “None.”  
“And yet here you are stitching a linen wall hanging.”  
“Mmm, oh yes.” Jane nodded, covertly rolling her eyes at Brenna who covered her mouth with her hand, “So, Bren, you were telling me about your guest.”  
Brenna was sitting in the window seat, using the sunlight to sketch by. She paused with her pencil in hand, “Papa has not let me talk to him for any length of time as yet but I can tell you, he is as tall as Papa. He has short reddish brown hair. He is thin, not as sturdy as Papa. I think his diet needs tending.”  
“Or maybe some exercise. We have it easier on earth. None of this manual labor stuff. People are lazy. They only work out if they absolutely have to.”  
“Perhaps. He has an open, honest face, a wide smile, dark blue eyes. He has a quick wit, a fine sense of humor.”  
“Oh? Where is he from?”  
Brenna started to sketch again, “Ireland, so he tells us.”  
Astrid had left off the dolls at her feet and was standing on her tiptoes at Brenna's elbow, “Might I see, Bren?”  
Brenna tipped the sketchbook toward her.  
“You are drawing me!” Astrid clapped her hands and dropped back to the floor where she picked up the rag doll she'd been carrying around and whispered into its ear,. “My sister is drawing me.”  
“He's an agent though, isn't he? You have to be careful with them,” Jane pulled the needle through the linen, “But then you know that.”  
“I do.”  
Jane paused admiring Brenna's silhouette in the window, “So you never answered my question earlier.”  
Brenna bit her lip, drew a few more lines.  
“You don't have to tell me if you don't want to,” Jane resumed her stitching, “Damn! Caught myself again!” she stuck her thumb in her mouth as the seamstress clucked her tongue.  
Brenna looked down at Astrid who was cradling the doll like a baby, “When I visited the school in April, I called Chase and we spoke for a while. At the very least we could still be friends.”  
“No reconciliation?”  
“Noooo, he has moved on in any case. He is seeing someone.”  
Jane searched Brenna's face for any sign of emotion, “And you're okay with that?”  
“Yes, it has been almost two seasons. We broke off our relationship just before graduation. I mourned, I recovered, and I healed,” Brenna resumed drawing, “Besides, I knew soon after the kidnapping that we weren't destined to be together. After old Astrid passed on and her companion became seer..”  
“I passed on?” Astrid piped up.  
“No, silly, another Astrid. Pay no attention to us,” Brenna nudged Astrid with her toe, “I went to visit Trena, how did she put it? One from Alfheim would come to alter my life's path...that person would be the key.”  
“The key to what?” Jane wrinkled her nose, bringing the thread to her teeth and nipping it short.  
“I have not a clue.” Brenna shrugged, “Trena is still green, Astrid read more into her visions.”  
“What?” Astrid tapped Brenna's leg making her jump.  
“I was not speaking to you. Now let the grown-ups talk.”  
“Might we go see grandmother?”  
“After I am finished with my drawing,” Brenna shoved Astrid playfully with her foot, toppling her backwards onto the rug. “Trena will become more adept with time. It took...” She stopped herself, glancing down at Astrid, “It took the old lady a lifetime to perfect her skill.”  
“Couldn't she be wrong then? About Chase? You said she's still green.”  
“I suppose it is possible. In any case, Chase is on Midgard, I am here so that door is closed to me. If our paths are to cross again, it will be far in the future.”  
“Coming back to your guest.” Jane was threading the needle with a length of red thread, “He's going to be in your household for a year? Your father is going to have to let down his guard a bit.”  
“You would have better luck holding back the wind with a feather fan. Papa cannot help it. I may push him to the limit but I am conscious of why he does what he does. Ever since...the incident..,” She still referred to those lost days with great difficulty, being abducted, watching her father die, pulling him back from oblivion. It was easier to give her living nightmare a nondescript name, “We have shared a deep connection that goes beyond the spoken word. I feel his concern, I simply wish he would treat me as an adult from time to time, able to make my own decisions.”  
Jane folded her stitching, laid it on a sewing basket at her feet and stretched, “It's what parents do. Someday you'll have children and you'll have to deal with the same things your father does now,” she stood from the chair, “I need a break from this. Let's go see what Granny Frigga is doing, shall we?”


	5. 5

Colin took the grid scanner out of the satchel at his feet and let himself down from the wagon. Loki had moved to stand beside Thor, watching.  
“What do you think of them, Master Denehy?” Thor swept his hand across the landscape.  
Colin shook his head, “You know, let's dispense with the niceties. Call me Col, Colin, Denehy, anything but master, bleedin' hell...” he clasped his hands together before him, “If it please yer Majesty.”  
Thor shrugged, “As you wish, Colin. What say you to the longhouses?”  
“I'll give you me verdict in a tick but first, “Colin reached into the satchel again to pull out his tablet, “Got to do this by the book.”   
He tapped the tablet once and set it down on the bed of the wagon before he slid the button up on the grid scanner. At once, a red laser grid of intersecting lines descended onto the landscape in front of them, longhouses included. Colin slid the button back, the grid disappeared and he touched it to the top of the tablet.  
“Ah yeah, you nailed the dimensions.” Colin turned again to look at the huge buildings at opposite ends of the clearing, “Just where Mister Stark wanted them.”  
Stark had wanted the buildings as far from each other as possible, claiming it was a safety issue though he never expounded on his concerns. Two portals, two separate buildings, he had demanded, and who Colin he to argue with genius? They started across the field along a mowed track  
“Lets look at the insides. I've got to grid them too so I can return the data next week.”

 

 

“Mama!”  
Eidra looked across the bed at Ingrid, “Was that Fen?”  
Ingrid was tucking the bottom corner of the coverlet under the down bedding. They both paused.  
“Mama, come quick!”  
Eidra flew from the room with Ingrid in tow. As they reached the top of the landing and looked over the railing to the foyer, they saw Cait at the archway into the sitting room crying, “Brother, I will see if they are upstairs.”  
Eidra was at the bottom before Cait could turn around. “Fen we are right here.”  
Fen pivoted about. He was holding Brynn upon his hip, the child's arms wrapped about his neck. She could hear Brynn's labored breathing from a distance away. She held out her arms and gathered Brynn to her.  
“I am sorry Mama. We were all running about and laughing and Brynn began to fetch breath hard.”  
Eidra carried Brynn into the sitting room, taking her chair before the fireplace, rubbing his back as he wheezed into her ear, “Fen, I charged you with watching your brother and sister and Edie so that we could change the linens on the beds. You know Brynn cannot play so hard. Ingrid, fetch Gretten will you? Have him fix a cup of green tea, quickly.”  
Brynn pushed back from Eidra and began to cough, a reedy, thick sound coming from deep inside his chest.  
“Mama,” he rasped, dropping his head to Eidra's chest.  
She stroked his soft brown hair, “Hush, my lamb, 'twill be well soon.”  
Fen reached out and touched Brynn's back, “I am sorry, little brother.”   
Eidra could hear the distress clearly in Fen's voice, softening her tone, “Fen go pick some marshmallow for me near the cow pond, mind you do not get too close to the edge. I will have Gretten add the leaves to the tea, hurry now.”  
She could hear the thump step of Helgi as she glided out of the dining room, “Odin's beard, not again. Cait, bring a cool cloth for his forehead.”  
Helgi eased herself into the chair beside Eidra, “Have you none of the Midgardian medicine left?”  
“Shh,” Eidra whispered, “Little ears, Helgi.”  
Ingrid returned from the kitchen with the cold cloth, handing it to Eidra who pressed it to Brynn's forehead.   
“Feels good Mama,” Brynn croaked.  
“Eidra, you must tell Brenna when she comes home this evening that you need more of the medicine,” Ingrid squatted beside her chair.  
Eidra nodded, “I only wish I did not have to suffer such looks from Loki each time I use it.”  
Ingrid stood up, patting Eidra's shoulder, “You should not have to.”   
Edie stood at Eidra's elbow watching Brynn. She would reach out and pat his leg, look to Ingrid, repeat the action until finally Ingrid pointed her toward Cait, “Take Edie out to play in the dooryard until Fen returns.”  
Eidra struggled for every breath along with Brynn as she thought back to the first time he'd had an attack.

Loki had been away on a campaign with Thor when Brynn, little more than a year old, had awakened in the middle of the night, struggling to breathe. It was early summer and Brenna was home from school. Eidra shuddered to think what would have happened had she still been on Midgard.  
Unable to stop the attack, desperate for help, Brenna had used the Uruz, taken them to the first place on Midgard she felt safe, the school. From there, Ororo had driven them to a hospital where they kept Brynn overnight, Eidra in a panic that Loki would come home and find her gone. The doctor had determined Brynn was suffering from a severe case of asthma likely brought on by summer allergies. Eidra had stood there, a blank look upon her face until Brenna put it in a much simpler form.  
“Brynn is sick, Mama. He needs medicine.”  
Brenna had asked Miss Munro to call Director Fury, explaining the situation and the need for medication to help Brynn. When they returned to Asgard two days later, Eidra carried with her enough medicine to last for a few moons. Along with Brenna's help, she managed to administer it in secret each day to Brynn without Loki suspecting anything, at least until Brynn's next attack two months later.  
Brynn had been toddling about after his father in the stables when he began to wheeze and cry. Loki had brought him into the house to Eidra, distressed. There was nothing to do for it but to give the boy the medicine in front of Loki.  
When Loki saw the tiny inhaler, he was incensed. What followed was quite possibly the worst argument in the history of their entire marriage. She'd told him of the visit to Midgard for Brynn's first attack and when he'd exploded at her for traveling there without his permission, she had asked him if he would rather his son die, telling him she needed no permission to treat her sick son.   
Loki had taken her by the shoulders and shoved her to the floor, where he roared at her and the dark days of their beginning came rushing back with frightening clarity. He had strode from the manor then, riding riding for the palace. Eidra decided then and there to bar the doors when he returned.  
When he found the doors bolted upon his return that evening, he had railed against them while she sat on the other side, the children around her sobbing. She half expected him to break a window to get inside . Before he ceased his efforts, he'd managed to damage the door latch, wrenched the door pull nearly away from its seating until finally it grew quiet save for the thunder of hoofbeats as he galloped out of the dooryard upon Lightning.  
For a full moon, he had stayed away at the palace and the color had drained from their world. Cait and Fen would beg to see him. Brenna was furious, threatening more than once to ride to the palace and give him her personal opinion of the situation though Eidra forbade it. Even the babies were endlessly fussy. For herself, Eidra went about keeping house during the day, spending the nights crying in the vastness of her cold bed. She eventually began to accept the fact that he might possibly never come back, wondering if she could live without him, or with him.  
Then one morning, she had awakened to see him kneeling at the side of her bed, hands clasped as if in prayer, head on his arms, overcome with grief, utterly repentant. She'd pulled him beneath the covers and they'd talked, cried, talked again, made love, moved on. Therefore, three months later, when she suffered the miscarriage of their sixth child one evening while Loki was at court for the annual harvest, she kept it to herself, charging the household to do the same for her sake, soon after, daring yet another trip to Midgard at Brenna's behest to see that everything was alright. When she was informed that it wasn't, that she would never again carry a baby to full term, she kept that secret from him too...

 

“Here, I added honey and cool water after I steeped it,” Gretten handed a mug to Ingrid, a worried expression furrowing his heavy brow. Eidra lifted Brynn from her chest, “Take a sip, Brynn. It will ease your breathing,”  
By the time the afternoon sun started to peer into the sitting room, Brynn's breathing had returned to normal though he still retained a persistent rattle in his chest as he slept, exhausted on Eidra's shoulder.  
“Eidra let me take him for a while. I will put him in his bed,” Ingrid took the boy from her arms as Eidra stood up. She felt sweaty, rumpled, ill at ease. She decided she would freshen up before Loki's return. She trudged upstairs to their bedchamber to change.

 

His head was swimming. There had been so much to document. The interior proportions of the longhouses were acceptable though the clearance at the ceiling was going to be a bit tight if Mister Stark's calculations were correct. Colin had even used the grid scanner to project a model of the portal inside the building though it was only a prototype. He'd heard Loki and Thor whispering behind him trying to politely ignore them while he concentrated on his work. At one point he'd looked at the time on his tablet, wishing he'd grabbed an extra apple to stick in the satchel. This morning and evening meal deal just wasn't enough for him.   
“The first item on the agenda to introduce into Asgard has got to be the concept of lunch!”he muttered as they rolled down the road back toward the palace, “You'll be able to see right through me soon.”  
“Our meals are hearty, intended to sustain us through a days work, however we do satisfy our hunger when needed. If you had wished, I could have had the palace cook pack something for you.”  
Colin looked up at Thor riding beside the wagon, “Thank you, yer Majesty, I might as well adapt. When in Rome as they say...”  
“When in Rome? Explain this curious addage.”  
Colin glanced over at Loki who wore a sly smile on his face, he would get no help on that end, “Ah right....loosely translated, it means follow the custom wherever you are, ken? If you were on Midgard, we'd be having lunch...” he looked at his tablet again, “Strike that, it's a bit late, we'd be having tea. But you get the idea..”  
Thor nodded thoughtfully, “When in Asgard...I like the sound of it better...”

Jane pulled the stays tighter as Brenna kept her hands at her stomach.  
“This is torture,” she gasped, “I much prefer the simple peasant dresses. I loathe corsets.”  
“We could....ahhh...always ask the seamstress to let the dress out,” Jane tied the silk ribbons at the top, lifting the dress pooled at Brenna's feet up around her waist, helping her slide her arms into the sleeves. Jane brought the back together and began to button it up.  
“Women do suffer for beauty. It's the same everywhere. And it's the men's fault,” She turned Brenna around, “Still you do look lovely. The blue of the dress brings out your eyes.”  
Brenna gestured to her, “And what of you? Red is your color. You will outshine everyone at the Midsummer celebration.”  
“Look at me!” Astrid cried, tugging at the skirt of Brenna's dress, “Can I be a queen too!”  
The seamstress poked her head into the dressing room, “I knew I heard you. The little magician disappeared on me as I was closing my sewing case.”  
Astrid twirled around, the green dress with the puffy sleeves shimmering in the beams of sunlight streaming through the window.  
“You will be a princess and content to be so,” Brenna put her hand atop Astrid's head to stop her from spinning.  
Jane had started to laugh but it was cut short as two hands covered her eyes, “Now I wonder who could it be who dares touch the person of the queen?”  
Brenna smiled as Thor leaned over Jane's shoulder, “Milady I am a bold thief come to steal you away from the King, what say you to that?”  
“I say you must be very brave or very foolish to attempt such an abduction.”

Colin stood behind Loki and Thor, chanting in his head, _“Don't look at her, Don't look at her!”_ As if she'd heard his thoughts, Brenna glided up to Loki, “Papa, do you like the dress? I am wearing it for the solstice celebration.”  
“It suits you, though I would it were a little more conservative,” Loki put a hand to his chin.  
“Oh Papa, I am well old enough for such a style as this....Master Denehy?”  
Colin swallowed hard, heard Jane giggling as Thor lifted her in his arms and whirled her about.  
“Aye?”  
“What do you think of my dress?”   
He could see the hem a few feet in front of him, “A lovely color, the dress that is.”  
“Brenna,” Loki muttered.  
But Brenna was bent on Colin's response. She stamped her foot, “Master Denehy.”  
“Colin please,” he mumbled.  
“I asked your opinion of my dress, it is only polite to oblige.”  
Colin screwed his eyes shut, cursing Miss Post's etiquette book as he looked up at Brenna, it was a minute before he could answer without sounding like a buffoon.  
“A fine dress, the color suits yer eyes,” he managed a weak smile before Loki came to his rescue.  
Brenna, you have had your sport. Go change so we may be off for home,” Loki was turning Brenna, guiding her to the seamstress who held Astrid's hand as she twirled about.  
Colin felt hot. He half expected Loki to give him a smart hand upside his head. If it had been his daughter being ogled, he would have done so, but Loki only waved him out of the room into the corridor.  
Colin was about to speak when Loki held up his hand, “Forgive my daughter. She thinks it great fun to play about. She knows full well how it irritates me but rest assured, she will apologize before the day is out.”  
Colin nodded, anything he could think of to say buried beneath his relief.

 

On the way home, Brenna lagged behind the wagon. Colin stole an occasional glance backward to check on her as he talked with Loki. Finally he could stand it no longer.  
“Yer eldest seems a bit put off.”  
Loki turned in the seat, “An' the fault be entirely hers,” he glanced down in the rear of the wagon where an exhausted Astrid slept on a blanket over a pile of hay, “In the very least, one of my brood had a fair day.”  
Colin figured she'd seen him turn around for a moment later, she was even with the wagon seat on his side. He shot her a look then returned his gaze to the road ahead.  
“Colin?”  
He grimaced, “Aye?”  
“You are from the country called Ireland are you not?”  
Colin was caught off guard and he stared up at her unabashed, “How did you know?”  
She smiled, “My Aunt Sally hails from there. She is what you would call a Sidhe..of the..”  
“Fairy folk,” Colin finished, “I know what it means. So yer after telling me yer auntie is a fairy.”  
“She is not my aunt by blood, mind you, it is a term of endearment.”  
“So yer _not_ Aunt Sally is a fairy then?”  
Brenna fixed him with a condescending look, “Yes, for want of a better term. She is one of their kind. You find all of this hard to believe, do you not?”  
Colin leaned back against the seat, “Not at all. After what I've seen the past two days, I've no doubt in me mind you speak the truth.”  
He knew Loki was listening to their conversation when he heard him grunt at Colin's response.  
“I also attended school with two boy Cealin and Michael. They were from outside Dublin.”  
“There were two boys from Dublin town? Here?” Colin sat forward.  
“Of course not,” Brenna laughed, “On Midgard at Xavier's school in New York.”  
Colin whirled about to Loki, “She went to school in ....in..New York!?”  
“I would have thought it was common knowledge in your profession. Do they not inform you of your situation when they send you into such an unfamiliar place?” Loki regarded him.  
Colin felt a prickle of irritation at the Director, at Lily who could have given him a little more to go on than a set of rules and regulations, “Aye, but this time, they gave me little more than my assignment to go by. A bit of information about protocol and such along with other....,” he looked back at Brenna, “...details but there were classified files I never had access to. I'd no idea who they were placing me with. I didn't know you even had a family, that you'd made forays to earth after....wards.” He bit his lip suddenly irritated at S.H.I.E.L.D for sending him along so unprepared.  
“I doubt there are many who would have volunteered for this assignment had they been given the details beforehand, do you not think, Master Denehy? And as for my travels to Midgard I have visited more than a few times in the last few seasons. My daughter Cait was born in one of your hospitals.”  
Colin clapped his hands on his knees, “You'll pardon the language but don't that just fuck all?”  
Loki smirked, “For all you have been told, there seems to be a great deal you have not been made privy to. Perhaps they expect you to fail in your endeavor to...,” here Loki paused as if searching for the right word, “...in your endeavor to keep us unpredictable Asgardians in check.”  
Colin frowned, “No, I don't believe it's....”  
The bang came simultaneously with a severe cant of the wagon to the right. Colin gripped the armrest of the wagon seat, narrowly avoiding being pitched to the right over the side of the wagon into the ditch. He heard Brenna scream just as Loki's weight slid against him and the cart jerked forward hard.  
“Lightning!” Loki roared, “Whoa! Come to!”  
The cart jerked again and Colin clamored to push his body away from the bench armrest as Loki hauled himself out of the seat and leaped to the ground, calling behind him, “Brenna, get Astrid out of the cart!”  
Colin twisted in the seat to see Brenna climbing in the back, lifting a screaming Astrid from where she'd slid into the uppermost corner of the wagon bed.   
Colin swung himself down into the road, and ran to the rear of the wagon, catching a glimpse of Lightning rearing up in panic before Loki, sure the horse was going to knock him to the ground. Colin held out his hands for Astrid as Brenna reached the rear lip of the wagon bed. She handed the wailing toddler down to Colin and leaped to the ground.  
“I bumped my head!” Astrid wailed in Colin's ear as he patted the child's back, distressed to see Brenna heading to the front of the wagon, leaving him in charge of her sister.  
“What in Odin's name happened?!” Brenna called to Loki who was by now holding Lightning's head, stroking the neck of the quivering animal.  
Colin retreated to the side of the road, spying the problem at once. One of the wheels had broken apart leaving the axle lying on the ground. Likely the wheel on the other side was damaged too.  
“The wheel busted,” Colin called to Brenna who returned to his side, taking Astrid from his arms when she leaned over to cry Bren's name.  
Loki unstrapped the harness from Lightning and led him to the side of the road where he stood stamping, snorting.  
“I think we're after walking home now,” Colin pointed as Loki squatted to inspect the damage.  
Astrid had stopped crying but as soon as Brenna made to put her down on the ground she started in again.  
“I cannot do what I have to with you in my arms, go to Papa.”  
Loki hefted Astrid to his hip, soothing her as Brenna knelt down in the road. Taking a piece of the wheel's twisted metal rim, holding it in her hand she closed her eyes. The piece of metal at once started to shimmer. Colin felt something bump his heel and looked down to see a curved slab of wood tumble past him on its way toward its mates. Other pieces, a length of metal strapping, splintered spokes, wooden pegs, came skittering over the dirt, a slight metallic hum filling the air as they drew together around the metal piece in Brenna's hand. As the first pieces of wood met, they connected like parts of a puzzle, knitting back together, melding, pulling the rest of the shattered parts in. A minute later, she was panting heavily, resting the complete wheel against the side of the wagon  
“Incredible,” Colin breathed.  
Brenna smiled at him as she wiped her sweaty hands on the skirt of her dress and turned to Loki, “Now comes the hard part Papa.”  
Loki sat Astrid down at the side of the road beside Brenna who had flopped down onto her back and walked over to Colin who had crouched down beside the wheel and was staring at it, “Can you fit the wheel to the axle?”  
Colin stood, put both hands between the spokes and lifted the wooden wheel up, groaning with the effort. It was much heavier than he thought, “I... can try.”  
“Do warn me if you cannot.” Loki gripped the underside of the wagon and put his shoulder against it. With a loud grunt, he began to push upward, lifting the wagon slowly until it was upright. After his initial shock at Loki's show of strength, Colin began to lift the wheel in an effort to aim at the shaft but as it rose from the dirt he cried, “Let it down!”  
“What is wrong?” Brenna called as Loki eased the wagon back to the ground.  
When the wagon was finally upright, Colin had seen the damage hidden below.  
“When the wheel gave way, we hit the ground right hard. We couldn't see the damage to the axle with the wagon stuffed into the dirt. The axle's done for.”  
Loki looked down at the bent axle end, “Well then, there is nothing for it but to fetch the blacksmith.”  
“I was right. We're walking,” Colin watched Loki squat down before Astrid to check her head once more then lift her from the ground.  
“We have two horses. Astrid shall ride with Brenna and you shall ride Lightning with me.”  
Loki took Lightning's reins as Colin chuckled, “Then it's going to be a long trip because you'll be stopping to pick me up off the ground every few yards.”  
Loki shook his head as he mounted up, “You will learn to ride upon my honor.”  
Colin hauled himself up to sit behind Loki, “And if I can't be taught?”  
“Then I will simply have to lash you over the horses flank each time we ride out.”  
Colin peered around Loki's shoulder to see if he was serious then looked at Brenna who smiled at him.  
“Yer foolin' right?”  
Loki said nothing, merely slapped the reins and they continued on toward home.


	6. 6

Somewhere in the manor, a door shut. Colin looked at the time on his tablet, eleven-twenty in the evening, wondering if it was Brenna. When they'd finally arrived home that afternoon, Brenna had complained of a headache, refusing supper, going up to her bedchamber and staying there the rest of the evening. After the evening meal, he had excused himself as well, listening to the household sounds while he compiled the data he'd gathered over the last forty-eight hours into his first official report. For the last hour, he had been sitting on his bed, staring at the blank tablet screen, trying to start his first journal entry.  
“Right then,” he mumbled to himself, pulling the keypad up and begin to type...

_Assignment: 64379-01  
Location: Asgard_

He smiled, just typing the name fairly blew his mind..

_Agent: Colin M. Denehy  
Date: 6/14/29_

 

_Where do I begin? It seems as if I have stepped, not into another realm, but into another time altogether. Modern conveniences are eschewed here, note that I did not say unheard of. The Asgardians are a people who look down on us..._

Colin shook his head. Not one person had acted like they were above him. King Thor, perhaps, but that was a given...he erased the line and retyped..

_The Asgardians are a people who believe the conveniences which make our life so easy have also made us materialistic, shallow. They believe we have lost sight of what makes our lives worth living and therefore why we are continually at war with one another on Midgard in search of a happiness we can't hope to find in our present state. I hope to prove them wrong about us and the first people I have had the opportunity to work upon is the family of Thor's brother, Loki. It seems as incredible as it sounds in that nothing is as I would have expected had I known what I was going to be doing beforehand._  
Prince Loki is married now to a lovely woman, father to a brood of five beautiful children ranging in age from nearly twenty to four. Of course he would likely disagree with me were I to say his more human side rests with his home life since he refuses to admit he shares anything with us Midgardians. Therein is where we, as carbon based life forms, are the same. His children fuss and cry and laugh and play, push his buttons as often as they can, and in like fashion, he scolds and punishes, lavishes them with love and affection. He seems to dote on his wife and is even acts the fair employer, treating the household servants as extensions of his family.  
I'm certain, in time, when these journals are read by other than myself, they will believe I've lost my mind, that I have to be wrong in my conclusions, and I will say, they were not here. 

 

The knock on the door was so light, had he not paused from his writing he would have missed it. He looked up from the tablet.  
“Come in?”  
The door opened a crack and Brenna stepped inside, hands behind her back, “I saw the light under the door. Am I disturbing you?”  
Colin stood up and set the tablet down on the coverlet, “No, I was just writing in my journal. We're required to keep them. How's yer head now?” Colin patted the top of his own head for emphasis.  
Brenna sat down on the bed, peering at the tablet before Colin could pick it up, “Better, now that I slept. My gift takes a lot out of me. More so lately. I must be getting old.”  
Colin sat down in the chair before the writing desk. If by chance someone was to discover her in his room, he was going to make sure he was as far away from her as possible.  
“Old, and you not yet twenty.” Colin shook his head as Brenna gazed at him.  
“And how old are you then?”  
He leaned his head on his hand, “Twenty-four.”  
Brenna pulled her dressing robe around her, the light from the halogen clip lending a bluish tint to the pallor of her skin. She looked exhausted.  
“That was some trick this afternoon. You fixing the wheel. How long did it take you to learn?”  
Brenna narrowed her eyes at him, “I have always had the ability to heal things, people. It is no spell, no enchantment.... ”  
Colin held his hands up in surrender as she returned her attention to the tablet on the bed, “I didn't mean to offend you. I'm new here, remember? This concludes me first lesson, I believe.”  
Her features softened and she smiled as she looked up from the tablet, “So my father has beautiful children?”  
Colin sighed, “It's my fault for leaving the tablet there for you to see.”  
Brenna waved to him, “You need not be so uptight. I am an expert secret keeper. Besides, my family are good people. Have no fear,” she sat up and rubbed her eyes.  
Colin sat forward in the chair, “Do you sleep well?”  
Brenna chuckled, “Not anymore. Not after the abduction.”  
He was going to make a point of getting clearance to access her files, “The abduction?”  
Brenna pulled her knees up to her chin, “Forgive me. I do not speak of it very often. Perhaps I shall tell you about my adventure someday but not now. I do not know you well enough yet to trust you.”  
“Wise young lady,” Colin tapped the side of his nose, “Bad dreams then is it?”  
She shrugged.  
“Have you told yer parents you can't sleep?”  
Here she frowned, “No, they have enough to worry about with Brynn's attacks, Father's responsibilities, Mother running the household, caring for the children. When I visit the school at the end of the month, I will talk to the resident physician. Perhaps he can give me something to help me sleep.”  
“Brynn's attacks?”  
Brenna nodded, “He has breathing trouble, what you Midgardians call asthma.”  
“I see,” Colin stood from the chair, wandered to the deep set window to look out into the ink of night, “It seems yer kind suffer the same as us lowly humans.”  
When he turned around to look at Brenna, he found her standing, arms crossed before her.  
“Lowly humans? You assume we think ourselves above you?”  
Colin walked to the bed, picking up the tablet, “Yer grandad does, as well as yer King and yer father, so I figure the rest of the kingdom follows suit.”  
Brenna stamped her foot and Colin almost smiled.  
“I have attended school on Midgard for a number of seasons. I adapted to your culture, learned your technology. I even learned to drive a car. I will be returning next spring to attend college. Does this sound like someone who thinks herself above you?”  
Colin chewed his lip, should he push her for more information or let it be? He already had enough to go on for research and he was feeling the usual guilt at using his training to info mine.  
“No it doesn't. Fergive me, I should know better than to fall prey to stereotyping. I've had to process a lot these past couple days.”  
Brenna's shoulders drooped, “ 'Tis I who was at fault. I take offense where none was given. I merely wish to be seen as a denizen of both worlds because I have grown to love Midgard nearly as much as I do Asgard,” she glanced at him, “Perhaps you too shall one day feel the same of our realm and wish to remain here.”  
Colin arched an eyebrow, “What, as a citizen of Asgard and Midgard? I wouldn't be allowed to join up, if you get me meaning. This is my assignment. I'm just an agent doing me job. “  
“Were you not given a choice?” Brenna stared at him, “Did your.....commanders...force you to come here?”  
Colin shook his head, “No. I was given the option to take the job or stay in Belfast at the agency running mundane details like shadowing foreign dignitaries, protecting them against radical elements, investigating extraordinary events like yer Uncle's appearance on Earth. The usual shite, begging yer pardon.”  
“And you chose Asgard,” Brenna pulled her robe closer around her shoulders, stopping at the door, “Good night, Colin.”  
As the door shut behind her, Colin smiled looked at the tablet and shook his head. He set the tablet down on the writing desk, he would never be able to finish the journal now, not with her in his head. He clicked off the halogen clip and lay on the bed lost in his thoughts until sleep took him.

 

Beth screamed into her pillow so her sister, who was making supper in the kitchen, wouldn't hear her. She picked up the letter from the bedspread, read it and screamed again. She'd been selected! When her professor had suggested she submit an application for a specialized study group he'd been notified about, she had balked, explaining she had to work on her dissertation that coming year. When he'd told her to base her dissertation on the assignment if she was chosen, a whole world of possibilities opened up before her. Not that she'd expected to get picked in the first place....  
Yes she had a GPA of 3.9, her doctorate was on the horizon, she already had a teaching position lined up upon completion of her final year in college....but ultimately she was just Elizabeth June Chapel. Her life had been fairly unexciting. At times downright depressing though that fact had in no way marred her naturally bubbly personality. Through most of her school career, she'd been bullied, picked on because of her weight, spending much of the time taking refuge behind books and bulky clothing, ignoring the naysayers who predicted she'd end up working in a convenience store after graduation. No, she had much higher goals. Instead, she'd gone on to college, pursuing a career dealing with the one thing that brought her joy, food.  
Now she was poised to conduct a study on the foodways of a newly discovered culture. Her research would become a benchmark for future scientists. She would be made privy to a whole new world and its people.  
Beth looked at the paper again. She was due in New York at the beginning of next week for training. She folded the letter and set it on her night stand before heading downstairs for supper.

Charlotte glanced at Beth as she took two plates out of the cupboard.  
“You're gonna be sorry you let the blue collar worker cook tonight.”  
Beth set the plates on the table, “We had a deal. I did your laundry this week, you play chef.”  
Charlotte shut off the burner under the pot of potatoes, “Okay, just don't blame me when you're sick with food poisonin'.”  
Beth fetched the colander from the cupboard and handed it to Charlotte, “I've taught you better than that.”  
Charlotte placed the pan of drained potatoes on the table and dropped a pat of butter on top, proceeding to mash them as Beth pulled the pan of baked chicken out of the oven and set it atop the stove.  
“Ma called today while you were gone.” Charlotte tapped the masher on the side of the pot and tossed it into the sink, “She told me to beg you to make your potato salad for the reunion next weekend.”  
Beth bit her lip, closed her eyes. She'd forgotten about the annual family reunion. At first she pretended she hadn't heard Charlotte until she poked Beth in the middle of the back, “So are you gonna?”  
“Gonna what?”  
Charlotte threw the cupboard doors wide and took out two glasses, gliding to the refrigerator and pulling it open with her pinky, “Geez, Beth, do you ever listen to me? Are you gonna make your potato salad for the reunion!”  
Charlotte set a jug of iced tea in the middle of the table as Beth placed a piece of baked chicken on each plate, “I suppose I could.”  
“You suppose? You know it's the family favorite. Could you maybe try a might harder?”  
Beth sat down at the table and took a deep breath, “I could but I'd have to make it ahead of time because I won't be here, I'll be in New York because I'm going on a research trip for my dissertation and I'll be gone for six months, could you pass the salt?”  
She winced at the clatter of silverware against plate, “What the hell do you mean?”  
Beth could barely keep her seat, “Professor Collins told me to apply for a study program he'd heard about so I did because he told me I could do my final dissertation on the research which is great because I was really floundering but now I'm going to be making history and please don't be mad at me Char..”  
“Slow the hell down, Beth. You're going to New York to do research on what?”  
New York? Should she lie to Charlotte, let her believe that's where she was going to be? She'd never been good at lying, even the small white ones would make her heart pound and her stomach turn.  
“I'm going to New York to prepare for the trip. I'm doing my research on native foodways somewhere else though.”  
Charlotte leaned forward, her brown eyes flashing, “Native foodways? Where are you going Elizabeth June? The Amazon? Borneo?”  
“Um, no, it's a place called Asgard.” She tried to sound nonchalant, forcing the excitement from her voice.  
“Where's that?”  
Beth started to laugh, harder, then harder still. When Charlotte sighed loudly, Beth thought she would fall out of her chair. She waved at Charlotte, one arm across her stomach.  
“I'll wait until your done with your fit.” Charlotte grumbled.

Beth drew a lungful of air, slowly let it out to calm herself,“Where do you think it is?”  
Charlotte rubbed her forehead with the heel of her palm, “Jesus, y'all know how poor I am at geography.”  
 _“And history and current events,”_ Beth thought back to all the homework she'd helped her sister with because she had no interest in those subjects whatsoever. Now here was the end result of many a wasted school night.  
“Oh come on, take a guess.”  
Charlotte watched Beth pour a glass of iced tea, “I don't know, Europe?”  
“Where in Europe?” Beth smiled.  
“Ireland?”  
Beth shook her head. If Charlotte were to get it on the first try she'd be suspicious.  
“Germany?”  
Beth thanked her maker that Charlotte had never been much interested by world news either, “In that area.”  
“You're going to Germany? Did you tell Ma and Pa? How long are you going for? Why didn't you tell me you were applying to travel halfway around the world?”  
“Because of how you get,” Beth watched Charlotte take her phone out of her jeans pocket, “What are you doing?”  
“I'm looking up this Asgard place. I wanna know a bit more about it before you ride off into the sunset.”  
Beth sat forward trying to grab the phone from her hand, “It's a closed community, very small. I don't think you'll find anything on it.”  
Charlotte swung the phone out of reach, “So does that mean I can't try? Beth, you're telling me everything right?”  
Beth sat there, blinking, her conscience screaming in her head, _**"YOU IDIOT! CAN'T YOU THINK AHEAD MORE THAN THREE STEPS? YOU SHOULD'VE KNOWN SHE WOULDN'T TAKE YOU AT YOUR WORD!”**_  
Beth held up her hands, “Okay, listen. I'll be right back. Let me get the letters. You've got to promise not to freak out though.”  
Charlotte glared at her but said nothing. Beth started to get up, stopped, then hopped up from the table, racing upstairs to her bedroom to grab the acceptance letter and the research outline she'd received with the application packet.  
When she returned to the kitchen she noticed Charlotte hadn't moved. Beth sat the papers on the table and sat back down in her chair.  
Charlotte picked them up, “Have you told Ma what you're going to do? She's going to have a shit fit that you waited till the last minute to tell her about this. You know she needs time to prepare for change,” She unfolded the acceptance letter first while Beth clasped her hands beneath the table to steady herself.  
Beth watched her sister's face darken, “Six months or more? What do they mean by more?”  
“I don't know. When you're faced with an opportunity like this, you tend not to ask questions.”  
Charlotte looked up at her, “And what if you get to this Asgard..” Beth bit her cheek to keep from laughing aloud again,... “And it turns out to be a prostitution ring or a drug smuggling project?”  
“Char, stop reading your crime novels. Not everything has a sordid background. This is an honest to god chance to graduate from college in the top five percent.”  
Here Charlotte's face softened a bit, “Honey, you're already at the top of your class. You are a smart woman. You don't need to prove it to anybody..”  
“Except myself, keep reading.”  
Charlotte frowned as her eyes moved down the letter, “Stark Industries?”  
“Yeah. Stark Industries is the project backer. Go on, read the packet.”  
Their supper sat before them, forgotten for the present time as Charlotte started to read. Beth sat still, waiting until she saw Charlotte's hand fly to her mouth.  
“You're not going,” her words were muffled, then she took her hand away, “You are not going to do this.”  
“Yes I am,” Beth pushed her chair back.  
“No you are not!” Charlotte slammed the papers on the table, “This is a scam! An elaborate hoax. You can't really believe what these papers say, tell me you're not that stupid.”  
Beth stood up, “You just said I was smart and now you're calling me stupid..”  
Charlotte pointed at the paper, “Inter-dimensional travel, seriously?”  
Beth walked to the sink, there was no way she was going to feel like eating now, “They're already sending supplies to Corona base on the moon by molecular transport and they're planning on living organism trials next year. Why is this such a stretch?”  
Charlotte jumped up from the table with the papers in her hand, thrusting them at her, “There is no comparison. If this is a serious venture then why hasn't there been anything on TV about it?”  
Beth grabbed the papers from Charlotte, “Because it's not supposed to be public knowledge. It's not like a sweepstakes or a raffle where you drop a name in a bowl. Even if it was on TV you would still miss it, you always have your nose shoved into a book,” she pushed the papers back into Charlotte's hand and pushed the chair in,“Keep reading then come see me when you're finished.”  
“Where are you going?”  
Beth looked over her shoulder, “Upstairs to pack.”


	7. 7

He was talking in his sleep again. Pepper stood by the couch, arms crossed, wondering whether she should wake him or let him stay there for the night. The closer the start date for project “Controlled Chaos” came, the more agitated, disjointed he'd become. She was sick with worry, mostly because it felt like the old days when he would work to exhaustion, unable to shut his mind down, overextend himself.   
She walked to the wet bar and lowered the lights, leaning over the counter, staring out the windows at Manhattan. It was her favorite evening view. Her private nightlight, a comfort that the world was still spinning, life was still carrying on.  
Pepper heard him mumble again as he shifted position on the couch and she glanced at him.   
When he'd received a call inviting him to come to Washington two years prior, he'd respectfully declined. The next call came in the form of an order from the leader of the free world. He had nearly declined a second time until Pepper stepped in and accepted the invitation for him. Tony had resisted right until the moment he'd stepped onto the jet at LaGuardia behind General Rhodes, then he really dug his heels in. Eventually they'd boarded the plane.   
When he'd left for Washington, he'd sported some distinguishing grey about his temples. The man who trotted down the stairs two weeks later to the limo parked on the tarmac, looked as if he'd aged another ten years, the grey had developed to obvious streaks.  
On the way back home, he'd held her hand while he outlined what he'd been charged to do.  
“They're asking me to lie. You know I can do that.”  
“You do it all the time..”  
“I can lie to the people who deserve it...”  
“So you're saying I deserved to be lied to in the past?”  
“Not lied to, put off, god I've missed you..”  
Pepper let his hand go and leaned back in the seat.  
“Some people deserve to get what they give but they're asking me to hand them over the key to a door that should remain firmly locked. They're asking me to betray a comrade and his people, not only that, they want me to convince him this is a good thing, these portals, tell him this is all in the name of science, the spirit of discovery because coming from me, it would sound believable.”  
“And what do they intend to do with these portals once they are active?”  
“If,” Tony held up his hand, “If I can even figure out how to make them work.”  
“Alright,” Pepper took his hand again and patted it, “If.”  
“Well on the off chance that any more problems arise....”  
“Problems like New York, you mean?”  
Tony nodded, “Clever girl. The President wants to be able to shut them down at the source.”  
Pepper stared at Tony who leaned his head against the window, “And he's being backed by some heavy hitters.”  
“Like who?”  
Tony opened the file on his lap, “Let's see. Russia, United Arab Emirates, the British Isles, China...want me to continue? Oh yeah and Fury was there too.”  
Pepper's mouth dropped open, “Fury is...?”  
“Doing the same thing I am...bowing to insurmountable odds. Ever since the shakeup, he's been keeping one foot on either side of the line.”  
Pepper slid a bit closer to him, “What if you were to say you wouldn't help them?”  
Tony shook his head, “I wouldn't be sitting here with you now if I'd said no.”

 

“Pepper!” She heard him shout, “Pepper!”  
She was at the couch in seconds, “Tony, I'm here. Wake up.”   
His eyes flew open, focusing on Pepper after a moment.  
“Holy shit!” he rose up onto his elbows, “Shit.”  
“Come to bed with me,” She put her hand on his chest.  
“Yeah...Okay,” He swung his legs over the floor and sat up but didn't move from the couch.  
“What were you dreaming about?” She tugged at his hands until he stood.  
“Old...,” he gazed about the room, “Old things....what's the date?”  
“Today? It's the eighteenth of June.” Pepper guided Tony down the hallway to the bedroom.  
“Eleven days.”  
Pepper pulled the bedcovers aside, sat him down on the bed, and drew off his shirt, looking at the long scar at the center of his chest, “...And counting.”  
“Let's run away.”  
Pepper lifted his legs until he slipped them beneath the covers, “It never works. They'd find us, besides, do you really want someone from S.H.I.E.L.D controlling those portals? You said that at least if you were in charge, you could keep some leverage. Let's focus our energy there, try to stay positive.”  
Tony lay staring at the ceiling, “Okay, positive.”  
Pepper took her nightie from the hook on the back of the closet door and slid it over her head, “Yes, power of positive thinking.”  
“Well I haven't seen Destructo in about a year. I've missed harassing him.”  
“I'm sure he's missed you too,” Pepper curled up beside him.  
“You think so?”  
“No.”  
“There's his lovely family, too. The rugrats, the grumpy housemaid, the long suffering wife. The sensible oldest daughter and the princeling. And you can't beat the fresh air, nothing like that here on Earth anymore.”  
Pepper draped her arm over his stomach, “See, just keep it up.”  
Tony put his arm behind his head, “I would but I'm running out of positives.”

 

She opened her eyes to the dim pre-dawn light. He was still beside her, the house was silent, rare occurrences. She pressed herself tighter to his back, draped her arm over his side, touching the plane of his stomach lightly. He grunted, his hand coming up to hold hers in place.  
“Tickles,” he mumbled, pushing her hand to a place where more good would be done. She squeezed him gently, smiling at his back, loving the hardness, the heat beneath her fingers.  
They lay there quiet for a bit, she stroking him slowly, the comforting movement nearly lulling her back to sleep. The shutting of a door somewhere deep in the house made her tense. She waited for the bedchamber door to fling open and one of the children come running to the bed but silence once again pervaded the manor.  
Loki turned over to his back and she slid her leg atop his. She wanted him, and badly. There had been so much going on as of late. He had been coming home just before the evening meal, retiring straight away to bed soon after and would often be fast asleep well before she was able to join him. In the mornings, he would be off to the palace often before dawn. She'd grown accustomed to the routine, especially during the summer months. In the winter, however, when his duties were lighter, he would linger a bit longer before setting out. In the evenings he would usually wait for her to retire and they would lie abed, talking of the day's goings on. With their new house guest arriving at the busiest season of the year, however, another bite had been taken out of their time together. But now, he was here, her love, her life and she wanted nothing more than to possess him, have him to herself if only briefly. She stretched upward and nipped at his shoulder.   
“Mmmm, cannot...”  
Eidra rose on her elbow, “What?”  
He threw the covers back and sat up, “I must relieve myself.”  
She flopped face down onto the mattress with a groan as she heard him slide the chamber pot across the floorboards, but when he was finished he didn't crawl back beneath the covers as she expected. She pushed herself up from the bed to see him donning his breeches.  
“You are leaving?”  
“I must talk to Fen first,” he picked up a fresh tunic and pulled it over his head, drawing his hair from beneath, “I wish him to bring Master Denehy to the stables and teach him to properly ride a horse before the festival four days hence.”   
He pulled his hair over his shoulder, taking a short piece of leather and tying it back in a loose ponytail before tossing it to his back and reaching beneath the bed to pull out his boots.  
“Loki!”  
“What?”  
Eidra stood up from the bed wrapping herself in the coverlet, “I wanted to spend some time with you. We have not made love in a fortnight.”  
Loki shoved his foot into one boot, “There is much to be done. I cannot dawdle here. I told my brother I would be at the palace at sunup.”  
Eidra stamped her foot on the floor, “Hang your brother! It is not your brother draws you from my side is it?”  
Loki rubbed his eyes. He had hoped to avoid this discussion so early in the morning, “Keep your voice low, I do not wish our guest to hear our private matters.”  
But Eidra disregarded him as she pulled the coverlet tighter around her, “Are you still angry with me?”  
Loki pulled his other boot on, gritting his teeth, doing his best not to bark at her in response....

He'd come home from the palace late one spring evening, sweaty, disheveled, uneasy. Eidra had still been awake. While he sat on the bed, pulling off his boots, she'd knelt behind him and tenderly undone his braid, running her fingers through his hair. Just the memory caused an involuntary shiver. Her touch had soothed his cares away, filled his heart with love, yearning. He had drawn her into his lap where they'd kissed, caressed, working each other into a frenzy of lust. She had straddled him, taking him inside as he whispered endearments, lustful encouragement, their passion boundless until he had found himself nearing his release and he had rasped, “Let me fill you with my seed again.”   
She had pushed herself off of his lap, nearly stumbling to the floor in her haste as he had sat at the edge of the bed, full hard, staring at her in disbelief.   
“You promised we would wait, Loki!”   
He replied he had promised they would not try for another child until the twins were old enough charging her to explain what “old enough” meant, yelling at her that the twins were almost four seasons, a gap in time which he considered acceptable for children. He tired of spending himself across her stomach, of taking her with trepidation, in fear that he would not be able to stop himself.  
She had stormed from their bedchamber, bunking with Helgi for the remainder of the night. When he had returned home the next evening, there had been no further talk of the incident though it had hovered over their heads for weeks, coloring their lives as it now was doing again.

“Must I be angry? Can it not be enough that I wish to start my day?”  
Her answer was small, her voice wavering. “Do you no longer desire me?”  
He stood with his forehead against the door.  
“I desire you now as much as I did when first we met. Please, Eidra. I promise you we will talk of this later,” he felt her lean against his back, slip her arms around his waist.  
“I love you, my heart.”  
He covered her arms with his, turned and kissed her forehead, “And I you. Return to bed. The house is still sleeping.”  
Eidra let herself be led back to the bed, covered up. She lay there a long time after he left, thinking of that same night which had plagued him....

….After their argument that evening she had retreated to Helgi's bedchamber and crawled beneath the coverlet with her, sobbing into her hands while Helgi held her.  
“Perhaps, poppet, it is time to tell him what that Midgardian doctor said. You must not keep secrets like this. They fester into sores, open wounds which never heal.”  
“I cannot, Helgi.”  
“Why?” Helgi stroked her hair, “What troubles you so?”  
“Fear,” she sniffled, “What if I told him I could not carry another child to term and he were to leave me? Or worse, cast me out?”   
“Eidra! After all this time, do you not trust his love for you?”  
Eidra nodded, “But I cannot stop my head from thinking such terrible thoughts even though I know the truth. What if he did not believe the doctor? What if he begged me to try again and I became pregnant? Oh Helgi, I could not bear to lose another child. I would die of a broken heart.”  
“Let him beg all he will. Your well being is more important and to this end I believe you should tell him my dearest. Tell him your body has given him all it can an' he be happy with his lot. Men need reassurance that they are not at fault, they are as children in that respect.”  
But she could not disappoint him. Just the thought of speaking those words terrified her, even now. It made her feel like the young maidservant again, cowering in his shadow. She punched her pillow, clutched it to her and lay there till the sun peeked over the mountains. 

Colin coughed, taking in deep breaths of fresh air as he stared up at the cloudless blue sky. Fen's face appeared above him, silhouetted against the bright morning light, “And that was but a trot. You were rising at the wrong time. Watch Agathon's foreleg. When it is forward you should be meet with the saddle, when it is back you should be up.”  
Fen offered his hand to Colin who took it, pulling himself to his feet, “It's harder than learning to drive a stick shift,” he brushed the dirt off his breeches, glancing at Gunnar who was sitting on the top rail of the paddock fence trying his best not to laugh.  
“A stick....shift?” Fen cocked his head at Colin, “I do not ken.”  
Colin thought for a moment, “Of course you don't, fergive me. Where I come from, we've automobiles....horseless carts? Some of....”  
“Like Mister Stark's long car?”Fen cut him short, “Yes, I recall riding in them upon our visits to Midgard to see Brenna. What of them?.”  
“Right, right. Forgot. Ah it doesn't really matter now. Let's just say riding a horse is harder than driving a car.”  
“I would imagine it the other way around,” Fen reached for Agathon's reins, “Are you ready to try again Master Denehy?”  
Colin looked at Agathon who stood a few paces off, shaking his head.   
“Oh, aye, if he is.”  
Colin watched Fen lead Agathon along, noting how much the boy resembled his father already with his long dark hair, lean build and delicate bone structure.  
He handed the reins to Colin, “Remember, it is a beat of one-two. You rise with the horse and land with it.”  
Colin kept at it with help from the boys until the sun was past its zenith and they were drenched with sweat.  
“You have made progress, Master Denehy....Colin...forgive me.” Fen bowed slightly.  
“You'll get used to it, just think of me as a friendly stranger...no wait, strike that. Think of me as a friend.” Colin patted Agathon's neck and followed Fen into the stables with the stallion who buried his nose into the water trough as soon as he was in his stall..  
“Now that looks as good an idea as any,” Colin tilted his head towards the horse.  
Fen looked at Gunnar, then to Colin “There is a pool some distant from here where we go to swim when we are finished with chores. You are welcome to join us if you wish.”  
 _"So polite,"_ Colin thought, _"wouldn't find that back home. “_  
“Ah, I've not got me trunks.”  
“Trunks?” Fen shrugged, “What need have you for a trunk? We are traveling a short distance.”  
Colin paused, “Swim trunks? Shorts? Bathing suit?”  
Fen's face lit up, “Ah, Brenna spoke about wearing a bathing suit on Midgard at a beach but..” Fen elbowed Gunnar who'd started to chuckle, “We do not use such garments here on Asgard.”  
Colin was momentarily flummoxed, “So yer after telling me you swim in the altogether?”  
“We swim in the water, Master....Colin....”  
“Without clothing,” Gunnar added, poking out his chest.  
Colin looked about the grounds up at the house, the smaller cottages, “And there's not a chance we'll be spotted in the buff?”  
Fen and Gunnar were already heading down a narrow path toward the distant tree line, “It would matter not if we were. It is the way in all of Asgard.”  
“What the hell,” Colin took a deep breath and the three of them disappeared into the thicket.

 

After a short walk, they came to the edge of a fair sized stream making it's way through the forest.  
“There is a small waterfall which feeds the pool where we swim not far from here,” Fen pointed deeper into the woods.  
They picked their way along the bank, a distant roar rising from the air, growing louder the nearer they came until they were at the top of a wide waterfall, Colin figured it couldn't be more than fifteen feet high. The boys scrambled down the embankment with loud whoops. He stood rooted to the spot, however, staring into the dark depths of the pool, the rocks that formed ledges offering places to jump from. It was from one of these rocks that Fen, then Gunnar launched themselves into the water.  
They surfaced with cries of laughter and Fen waved to Colin.  
“Come, you will not be cooled off standing there!”  
Colin picked his way gingerly to a wide rock halfway down the slope and paused, drumming his fingers nervously on his leg as he scanned the surrounding forest. Then, with a sigh, he pulled his tunic over his head and kicked off his boots. He hesitated with his hands on the tie of his breeches, counted to three and dropped them to the ground as well, leaping from the rock into water so cold it stopped his breath. He broke the surface, sputtering and gasping, “Jesus Christ! It's bleedin' freezing!”  
Fen, a few feet distant, splashed at him, “It is not bad once you are used to it.”  
Colin swam to the side, clinging to one of the submerged boulders, his teeth chattering, “It like to have stopped me heart!”  
Gradually, his body acclimatized to the water temperature and he ventured out into the middle of the pool to watch the water flow over the ledge high above them.  
“It is beautiful,” came Fen's voice beside him and Colin turned his head to see Fen treading water, looking up at the same site.  
“Aye.”  
“This is my place. This is where I come with Gunnar to fish, to play, to swim, to talk. When I am old enough, I will ask the farmer who owns this land if I might buy it from him and I will build my cottage here on the banks of the stream.”  
“We're not that far from the manor house,” Colin gazed about the forest, “Could it be yer father owns this land?”  
Fen dove under the water and resurfaced in front of him, “He does not. I have walked the borders of our land with him many times. We are beyond our lines....HACH!!”  
Fen's head disappeared beneath the water as Gunnar surfaced beside Colin laughing. Fen returned the gesture a moment later and they swam around a bit, splashing one another, taking turns diving from a high ledge once Colin overcame his initial modesty until finally they climbed back out of the water to let their bodies dry in the sun.   
Colin sat cross legged between them, using a small stone to draw patterns on the smooth surface of the rock.  
“Colin?”   
He turned to see Fen looking up at him from his position prone with his arms behind his head.  
“Aye?”  
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”  
“No, at least not that I know of.”  
Fen sat up, “How could you not know of your brothers or sisters. Mine never let me forget them.”  
Colin chuckled, “It was a gaffe....a joke?”  
Gunnar was now sitting up, “I fail to see the humor in your reply.”  
Colin held up his hands, “Ah geez I meant me Da wasn't prone to a wandering eye.”  
When both boys stared at him blankly, he shook his head, “My Da didn't fool around on Ma.”  
“Ohhh,” they murmured nearly in unison, “Your father was faithful.”  
“Aye, and as affectionate as my Ma is, the only way I'd have had siblings is through some crazy powerful magic.”  
“Magic is not crazy,” Fen frowned, “It is not to be slighted.”  
Colin had forgotten where he was, “I meant no disrespect, It was a.....”  
But Fen rose from the rock and was now walking to the edge, holding his hands out palms facing each other, staring into the water below.  
“Elementene bli min til kommando, vann opphav til hånden min!”  
Colin hauled himself to his feet along with Gunnar and they stood looking down into the pool of water as the surface began to ripple, then bow upward until it burst, like a volcanic eruption, into a waterspout which spiraled high into the sky, higher still till it seemed all the water in the pool had been gathered into the column. Even the water rushing over the falls was drawn away from the rocks. Colin felt waves of energy emanating from the boy, a static charge like one would feel if they were to stand to close to a large generator.  
Fen suddenly dropped his hands and cried, “Run!”   
The column collapsed full force back to the pool below. The wave that leaped over the edge of the rock ledge knocked them to their knees as Gunnar and Fen howled with laughter.  
“What were those words you shouted?!” Colin stared at Fen, gasping as he wiped the water out of his face.  
“It is a spell my father has taught me, one of many. I will be privy to more elaborate spells after my rite of passage this summer,” Fen gave him a hand up.  
“Rite of passage?”  
Fen puffed out his chest, “Yes, I am twelve seasons this summer. I will be a man.”  
“I will soon be fifteen seasons,” Gunnar added.  
“What did the words mean?” Colin asked as he looked about the rocks.  
Fen closed his eyes a moment, “It is the old language. It means the elements are mine to command, water rise to my hand.”  
Gunnar noted Colin's scrutiny and he too began to look around until Colin folded his arms, “Fen? Where are our clothes?”  
They walked to the edge of the rock ledge and looked into the water where floated breeches and tunics, another sodden tunic hung on a rock halfway down to the water gazing sadly into the pool as if left out of the fun by its comrades.   
“Well we cannot walk into the manor naked,” Fen shrugged as he leaped off the ledge into the water.   
“So much for drying off,” Colin shook his head and dove after him.


	8. 8

Loki nodded to Hal who met him at the door with a lantern.  
“Everyone is abed?”  
“Yes, Milord.” Hal took Loki's cloak from his shoulders and hung it on one of the pegs by the door, “As I am soon to be. Does Milord need my assistance?”  
“No, Hal. Thank you. Good evening.”  
Hal handed Loki the lantern, turned and closed the door, securing the latch, “Good evening.”  
Loki trotted up the stairs into the bedchamber and stopped short. Eidra was not in bed. He stared at the empty room for a moment before returning to the hallway.  
He tapped on Brenna's door. When there came no anwer, he pushed it open a crack, holding the lantern high to spy Brenna curled into a ball, the covers about her feet. He walked over and gently lifted the linen sheet to cover her before slipping back out of the room on to the nursery where he found Brynn and Astrid fast asleep, sprawled out in their beds. He shut the nursery door and moved on, his heart racing a bit faster as he pondered where Eidra could be.  
When he reached Cait's room, however, his relief was palpable. Eidra was lying beside Cait, cradling the child in her arms. Loki made to wake her, his hand hovering over her shoulder when he gave pause. Had she chosen to sleep with Cait, shunning their own bed? He withdrew his hand and stood upright, resigned to sleeping alone when he heard Eidra whisper, “Loki.”  
He held up the lantern as Eidra rose slowly from the bed, eased Cait from her arms and covered her with the blanket.  
“She had a bad dream,” Eidra waved him into the hallway shutting the door, “So I laid down with her.”  
When they reached the bedchamber, Eidra shrugged her robe from her shoulders as Loki sat the lantern on the writing desk, “What was the dream about?”  
Eidra sat down on the bed.  
“Eidra?” Loki leaned down to look into her eyes, “What was the dream about?”  
“You and I...,” her voice grew soft,“Living apart. It seems she was privy to our disagreement this morning.”  
“Damn, you reassured her such a thing would never come to pass?”  
“Yes..”  
Eidra slipped under the coverlet as Loki sat on the bed beside her, “Do I sense doubt?”  
She felt the weight of her secret press down upon her, could fair taste the words on her tongue. In the end, though, fear again won the day.  
“Loki, please hold me.”  
He lay down beside her, drawing her into his arms.  
“Tighter.”  
“I will never leave you,” he kissed the top of her head, “You know this. We have had our disagreements, we may not always see the same solutions, but we come to the same conclusion in the end. You are the better half of me. Without you I am, nothing, an empty shell.”  
She nodded, buried her face into the crook of his neck, hand over his heart.“We are the better halves of one another.”

 

The morning of the Solstice celebration had the household in a flurry of activity which Colin was happily drawn into.  
Brenna and Fen shuttled back and forth with blankets, baskets of food, cushions for Helgi to the wagons parked outside the front door. Ingrid and Eidra dressed the twins while Gunnar and Colin were left to watch Cait and little Edie while likewise helping Gretten in the kitchen. Colin had drawn on his rudimentary knowledge of sign language during that week, endeavoring to teach Edie some words. She was such an eager pupil and whenever she would see him unoccupied she would come up to him, point to whatever object was close by, and wait for him to sign its name or function. Included in the list on the microchip, along with the weekly reports he was going to give to Lily when they reached the palace, was a requisition for sign language books. He only hoped she didn't look at the list and question his request.  
Loki and Silas strode into the kitchen as they were packing the last basket.  
“Is this the final one? We shall have room for naught but the food if we keep up,” Silas wiped his brow with the sleeve of his tunic.  
“If you wish to go hungry for the day, be my guest,” Gretten grumbled, “I prefer to keep the household well fed, for all of me.”  
“And so you do,” Loki hefted the last basket to his shoulder, “Are we nearly ready? The sun has gained the horizon.”  
Eidra walked into the kitchen with Astrid in her arms, “All we have left to do is load everyone into the wagons.”

Colin made to climb into the wagon beside Brenna and Fen but Loki called to him, handing him Agathon's reins, “You will ride with me. I wish to see if Fen has done his chore well.”  
Colin mounted Agathon, hiding his lack of confidence behind a grim determination, “Me sore backside stands as a testament to his skill, yer Highness.”  
Loki laughed aloud, “Indeed. Let us be off then, the holiday warrants all haste.”  
They held back, watching the wagons pass, Eidra driving the first one, Hal holding the reins of the second with Gretten and Vesta seated amid the baskets behind. Silas trotted up to them on his steed, Landers and with a nod they left the manor house behind.

 

Beth shifted in her seat looking for people she might know though it was a futile effort at best. She twisted her grandmother's ring around on her finger, rubbing the smooth blue stone set into the center of the band. It always made her feel a bit better. Her grandmother had called it a Norwegian Moonstone though it was merely a pretty variety of feldspar called Larvikite. As a piece of jewelry, the ring had little real value save the sentiment attached to it. She hadn't taken it off her hand since her grandmother had given it to her for her high school graduation.  
It was this ring that had spurred her on, giving her the courage to enter the vast convention room on the first floor of the New York Marriott. The room was a roar of conversation,the overpowering scent of aftershave and perfume, laughter, cell phones, the clack of chairs being moved. She felt for her cell in the front pouch of her purse, considered calling Charlotte just to hear a familiar voice even as short as she'd been when Beth had called her the night before,.  
All at once the lights dimmed and a hush fell over the room as a single spotlight grew over the podium on the stage at the front of the room. When Mister Stark trotted up the steps with a wave to the assembly, the room as a whole stood up and applauded. After a moment, Beth joined in, her hesitation based solely on the fact that _THE_ Tony Stark was thirty feet away from her.  
He stood silent, waiting for the applause to die down, then, without a word, clapped his hands and opened them wide. Before him, floating above the stage was a small holographic platform. He walked around the podium and stood behind the hologram touching the air above it to his right. One pinpoint of light glowed to life. In rapid succession, he tapped the air at even intervals in a circle, each touch connecting one light to the next until above the platform was a glowing circle of green light. There were murmurs in the crowd as he stepped in front of the hologram to the edge of the stage.  
“What you see here before you is a first phase prototype from the first and, by the time my lawyers draw up the contract, the only name in inter-dimensional travel, Stark Industries. This, ladies and gentlemen, is our goal. This is what we will begin working on when we cross over from reality to the stuff of dreams on the thirtieth of June. The technology used to power this,” he tapped the hologram which shrunk to half its size, hovering above his palm, “...portal, is unlike any technology we, as a people, have ever encountered, mainly because it doesn't exist here on Earth....I repeat, does not exist. It's design is the product of an object no bigger than this,” he held his thumb and forefinger in the shape of an O, “And it will be able to produce a portal big enough to drive a semi through with room to spare.” He held up the hologram and pushed it out of his palm where it again grew to its original size as it floated over the heads of the audience. Beth had to hand it to him, he was a master showman.  
“How does it work, you ask? And if you don't ask, you should because it took me, a genius, two years to come up with the solution. If I were to say it worked by magic, you'd have me locked up and you'd be right to do so. As a number of you are aware, any power source, any manipulation of the fabric of space and time can be measured and explained. In this case, duplicated. Are there any quantum physics experts in the house?”  
Beth looked around the room where about a dozen hands were sticking in the air.  
“Those of you with your hands up, put them down. Then turn everything you know about science inside out and upside down. I could delve into the physics part of this program right now but then those so-called experts would have to field a hundred questions from their neighbors who still wouldn't get it. Don't be offended, I'm simply pressed for time. I'm not here to deliver a physics lecture. I am, however, here to welcome you chosen few, you brightest minds of your generation, you anthropologists, data miners, horticulturists, historians, to the opportunity of a lifetime...no wait a minute, the opportunity of a millennium. And I congratulate you on passing the application process because it is strict and rightly so. You are passing from the known world to a land which has heretofore been the stuff of legend. Your work will be scrutinized, read, pored over for generations to come because you will have been there first. Taking this first step calls for a stretch of the imagination, though not as big a stretch as in the past, the world itself has changed. We have seen evidence of other dimensions, we have colonized our moon and as we speak, excavation has begun on Mars. Within ten years, we will be a presence there as well.”  
Beth shivered. Another dimension was fine, outer space terrified her. She'd had a chance a couple years ago to take a shuttle to the moon base but she had let it go and happily. The thought of leaving the breathable atmosphere of Earth behind made her heart race.  
“You will have a week of classes, training, seminars to go through to prepare you for this journey. When you leave this room, you will receive a packet. I suggest you treat it like your bible. It contains important information, some of it could even save your life. Not that your life is in danger where we're going unless you count...,” Tony held up his hands, “Wait, why don't I let you save that reading for bedtime, be sure to leave the night light on. This concludes the infomercial portion of the show, we now return you to your regularly scheduled program.”  
Tony drew his hand towards his chest and the hologram shrank down until it winked out of sight. As the room erupted in applause again, Beth took the opportunity to head for the double doors where two pretty young women stood beside boxes of thick manila envelopes. She took one as she passed through the doors on her way to the elevator. She wanted nothing more than to get upstairs and immerse herself in a hot bath while she started her required reading. She sailed past a stately woman with blond hair and a friendly smile, barely noticing her though the woman followed Beth with her eyes as she stepped onto the elevator.

Pepper looked towards the double doors where people were streaming out of the room. She tightened her grip on her tablet and started to make her way through the crowd where Tony stood on the stage talking to a couple of young men.

 

“Astrid! Brenna grab your sister!” Eidra twisted in the seat of the wagon, taking hold of Astrid's arm as she tried to climb over the back of the seat, “You must keep watch over her!”  
“I want to sit with you, Mama!” Astrid cried as Brenna reached up and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her down to sit in her lap.  
“I am sorry, Mama,” Brenna called as she nudged the sullen child now sitting on her lap, “The wagon is still moving! What do does Mama always tell you? To stay seated when the wagon is moving lest you be thrown over the side?”  
Astrid buried her face in Brenna's shoulder.  
“Right?”  
“I wanted to see the palace,” came Astrid's muffled response.  
They had entered the large square where three immense piles of wood rose high above the milling crowd and a great timber pole festooned in ribbons and greenery had been raised to stand beside the fountain of Odin. Various stalls lined the outer edges of the vast square. offering everything from bolts of cloth, brightly colored ribbons, trinkets, to sweetbreads, pies, roast chestnuts, wines and ales.  
Colin had managed the ride well enough. Loki had kept pace with him, watching his technique, nodding at one point, “Fen has done well.”  
Colin dismounted as they came to a halt in the square, walked over to the wagon and offered his hand to Brenna who was just stepping down from the wagon.  
“Milady.”  
Brenna gave him a wide smile, then turned to let Astrid to the ground followed by Brynnn and Cait.  
“Do keep them close,” she called to Colin as she gave a hand up to Helgi though Colin had already taken Astrid's hand. He felt another hand slip into his and looked down to see serious, shy Edie looking up at him.  
Ingrid jumped from the wagon, reached down and took Edie's hand from his.  
“Thank you Colin. Brynn come here!”  
Loki had lifted Cait to his shoulders and nodded to Hal, Vesta and Gretten, “We must meet with the King. Feel free to explore the square.”  
A rare smile rose to Vesta's lips as she pulled on Hal's sleeve, whispering, “Might we buy some new cloth for a dress?”  
Hal returned the smile, bowing to Loki, “Milord if you have need of assistance, send for me.”  
“Do not worry,” Eidra waved to him as she shifted Brynn onto her hip, “Enjoy yourself. It is a blot.”

The palace was bustling with activity as they traversed the corridors though the tone seemed more somber. Colin watched as a tall young man approached Loki just before the Throne room doors, speaking quietly with him.  
He turned to Eidra, drawing her close, “Is é an Allfather an-tinn. Lig dúinn na páistí a ghlacadh chun an naíolann ar dtús.”  
Colin could only catch a few words though he was able to piece together the problem. The Allfather was sick. Loki started down another corridor until they came to a set of whimsically carved doors.  
“Grandfather is tired today,” Loki opened the door, herding his brood inside while Brenna glanced at Colin, her brow furrowed with confusion, “Stay and play with your cousin while we visit.”  
Lóriði looked away from the window he'd been staring out of when the door opened. Loki bowed in his direction, “Your cousins are here to visit.”  
Thor had not the heart to banish the boy when he had imprisoned Sif. Though he was adamant only an heir of royal blood would inherit the throne of Asgard, the boy remained a prince and Thor vowed to raise him as his own, further spiting Sif in the bargain.  
Lóriði had grown into a handsome child, somewhat precocious, carrying about him a regal bearing. Loki felt pity for him. The boy's lineage was no fault of his own, a fact he himself was all too familiar with. Cait ran to the window to see what Lóriði was looking at while Astrid and Brynn scanned the room to find toys to play with. Ingrid tried to encourage Edie to join the others but she remained firmly at her mother's side until Helgi took her by the other hand.  
“We shall stay here with the children.” Helgi led Edie to a chair where she sat down, gathering the child into her lap, “Go on now.”  
Silas turned to Gunnar, “And we will visit the barracks. I must speak to the captain of the guards.”  
Fen stood behind Brenna, peering into the nursery.  
“Fen, why do you not stay here and help with your brother and sisters?”  
Fen cringed at his father's suggestion, pretending he hadn't heard him at first.  
“Fen?”  
Fen wanted to shout, _“Because I am no longer a child!”_ but he held his tongue until he heard his mother's voice.  
“Loki, let him come with us,” Fen felt his mother's hand on his shoulder, “He is nearly a man.”  
Fen looked up at his father who was clearly weighing her request.  
“Very well. I would think you would wish to shield him from the more tragic aspects of life for a bit longer but so be it.”  
“He has had his fill of sorrow. He is a strong boy,” Eidra squeezed a grateful Fen's shoulder as they started away from the nursery.

Brenna fell in step with Colin who felt extremely self conscious. He had almost suggested he stay behind as well but Loki clearly wished for him to be included.  
“He must be ill indeed. I heard Council Member Torga say my uncle and Lady Jane are with him ,” Colin snapped his fingers, that's where he'd seen the man who had approached Loki, sitting in attendance at the High Council when he first arrived in Asgard with Lily.  
“Let's hope for the best, shall we?” Colin nodded then blanched as he felt her hand wrap around his elbow.  
“He has been unwell for quite some time.”  
“He has indeed...” Loki looked over his shoulder and Colin felt a cold lump form in the pit of his stomach as Loki stared at the two of them.  
 _“I'll be answering for that one,"_ he thought to himself but Brenna didn't loosen her grip until they reached Odin's bedchamber and the royal guards swung the doors open.

 

Frigga sat in a high backed chair beside Odin's bed, Thor and Jane at her side. When they heard the doors open Thor turned to motion them close.  
“Brother,” Thor's voice was rough. He held out his hand, drawing Loki into a fierce hug. Colin stifled a grin as Loki grimaced.  
“He has not spoken since last evening, nor has he partaken of food or drink.”  
Colin had watched his grandmother wither away from Alzheimer's. He was certain the great Allfather was in the end stage of that same disease. Whatever the Asgardians wanted Midgard to believe, the reality was illness, death knew no boundaries. It cared little about superior DNA, superhuman strength, longevity, everything had its end. Including those who wished to be seen as gods.  
Frigga rose from the chair and put a hand to Loki's face, took Thor's hand, “My boys. Odin was asking for you this evening past, Loki. His lucid moments are so rare now. He was frantic about the Midgardians impending arrival.”  
Loki nodded, “And you reassured him all would be well?”  
Frigga reached down, smoothed the white hair at Odin's forehead, “Of course. What else could I do?”  
“Grandmother?” Brenna stepped forward and Frigga pulled her into an embrace.  
“Oh my grown up princess. You know he is quite proud of you, going to school on Midgard and learning their ways. He says you are very brave.”  
Brenna smiled, elbowing Loki who stood beside her, “I am brave, Papa. How about that?”  
“Indeed.” he gestured to Fen who was standing back with Colin, “Come pay your respects, my son.”  
Fen bowed to Frigga, trying not to look at the bed where Odin now slept, “Your Majesty,”  
“So proper all the time. Grandmother, please. We are family.”  
“Will you join us for the start of the celebration this evening, mother? It is meet you should show the citizens a strong front,” Thor took her hand in his.  
“I will come down briefly. He would want one of us to be there.”  
Eidra slipped her hand around Loki's elbow as Frigga peered behind them, “Where are the babies?”  
“In the nursery, mother,” Loki inclined his head toward Odin, “It is best not to expose them at a delicate age to such things. There is time enough for that.”  
“Then I will slip away and see them. They bring such joy and is this not what we need?” She clapped her hands, bringing a young servant running to her side.  
“Stay with the Allfather, ring the bell should you have need of me.”  
The girl nodded, perching on the chair where Frigga had been sitting as they made their way from the room.

While Frigga visited with the family, Colin leaned forward, looking out the nursery windows. The entire city seemed aglow with gilt and silver, bright colors, banners. He'd literally stepped back into time. When he stood up and looked into the room, he caught sight of the white haired man again, leaning at the wall, smiling, watching as Loki hauled Astrid over his shoulder where she squealed with laughter.  
“Aye, you again.” Colin murmured. To his mild surprise, the white haired man turned his head to stare at him. Colin shivered involuntarily at the intensity of his gaze. It wasn't the first time he'd spoken to the dead, in fact the gift of being able to see beyond the veil had been with him since childhood but rarely did the dead respond to him.  
“You can see me then, boy?” the white haired man glided to him, waving an opaque, pudgy hand before his eyes.  
“Aye, I can that.”  
“Well why didn't you tell me so when first you spied me?”  
Colin threw a quick glance at the group but no one was paying him attention, “Because I'm often seen as a lunatic when I tell people their dead uncle is standing beside 'em. So I largely ignore the spirits. Is yer name Chris by any chance?”  
The man broke into a wide grin and Colin felt warmth radiate from him, “It is, lad. Or rather it was, more's the pity.”  
Colin kept his eyes on Loki, “So you follow the family around to protect them, is it?”  
“For what it's worth, I do that. I watch over them all though I can't say I'd be much help in an unfair fight, still I would do what I could for Loki, Eidra, my Sally, the children. Brenna has taken a considerable amount of my energy. She is a rebellious, sweet child. She bears closer watching.”  
Colin looked toward Chris but he had disappeared. Colin turned to the group again and was suddenly face to face with Loki.  
“Whom were you speaking to?”  
Colin smiled, hoping to god that Loki couldn't see the same as him because the last thing he wanted to do was to be caught lying.  
“I was talking to meself, honestly. Making mental notes to transcribe later.”  
Loki paused, stared hard at him, then gestured towards the group, “We are ready to head out into the square, the children are restless.”  
Colin bowed, relieved, “Lead the way, yer Highness.”


	9. 9

The square was busier than when they'd first arrived. As soon as Thor and Loki stepped through the gates into the crowd, they were swarmed by citizens wishing to see them, speak with them. Eidra kept Brynn on her hip though he squirmed about in a constant effort to climb down to the ground. Brenna had Astrid in one arm and a firm hold of Cait's hand as they walked about the square. Colin lagged behind a bit, taking the spectacle in when he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to find Lily on the arm of her husband, Garik.  
“I was looking fer you in the palace,” Colin groped about for the pouch tied to his waist, “I've reports for the week and a list of requests for you to deliver.”  
“I'll get them from you before you leave tonight,” she smiled, patted his arm, “but for now, we have a festival to enjoy,” she nodded as Garik drew her away.  
A loud scream caused Colin to collide with a couple of men whom he apologized to as he searched about for the source. Eidra and Helgi were hugging a middle aged heavyset woman with long dark hair.   
“Sally,” Eidra turned to him, “this is Colin. He's from Midgard. Ireland.”  
The woman held out her hand, “ 'Tis pleased I am to meet ye.”  
“An extreme pleasure, Milady,” Colin touched her hand to his lips lightly and then his heart liked to have stopped as she spoke again.  
“Cén chaoi a bhfuil tú ar an lá seo?”  
She was watching him in earnest along with the rest of the group.   
“Dhéanfaidh mé go maith,” he sighed, catching Eidra's gaze, thankful Loki was far enough away not to hear them.  
“You know the old language?” Eidra shifted a wiggling Brynn to her other hip.  
“Aye, they still teach it in school so we don't forget about it. Fergive me, Milady. I would've told you before but I didn't want to embarrass you.”  
Eidra pursed her lips together, “I ken. I should not have spoken another language in front of a guest. Forgive me, it was quite rude.”  
“Not at all, Milady. Everyone has secrets, there's no shame in it.”  
“Mama, might we walk around.” Fen was at her side with Gunnar.  
“As long as you are by my side before they light the bonfires.”   
Fen and Gunnar smiled, melting into the throng as Eidra turned to Sally.  
“I was unaware you were coming here.”  
“I wasn't sure meself until this morn but I knew ye would be here so I decided I would join ye.” Sally took Eidra's arm.  
“Rialo is too far a trip to make at night. You will stay at the manor.”  
Colin watched a man in a white mask, sporting a black and white striped costume wandering through the crowd performing little magic tricks for the children.  
“They are but charlatans,” Loki put a hand on his shoulder, “Come with us. You needn't be left behind with the women and children.”  
Colin followed Loki through the crowd, missing Brenna's forlorn expression as she watched them disappear.

Colin trailed along with Loki, Thor and Silas for the better part of the afternoon, a silent observer. Thor and Loki, it seemed, could scarce make a few feet forward before citizens would stop and talk to them asking all manner of questions, blessing them, wishing them good health. The vendors would ply the group with their wares and thus he was treated to a variety of foodstuffs, fresh cheese, roast venison, plover, smoked fish, sweetbread, all interspersed with a good amount of mead and ale. Before long he was nursing a slight buzz. He looked up at the sun, mollified to see it was barely halfway to the horizon.  
“Scandalous.” Colin muttered.  
Loki turned to look at him, “What?”  
Colin put a hand to his mouth. “Ah I was after giving an opinion on being slightly in me cups at such an early hour.”  
“A curious expression...in me cups?” Loki looked to Thor then to Colin.  
“Ah slightly drunk, fer want of a better word. I believe I'll beg off the ale for the rest a the day.”  
Thor gave him a smile, “You are what Lady Jane would call...a light weight.”  
Colin chuckled, “An' she wouldn't be far wrong, yer Majesty.”  
They came to a booth where a heavyset man stood behind a wooden table. Laid upon it, on linen cloth and oily parchment were large roast drumsticks, from what type of bird, he couldn't be sure. He leaned closer. Duck? Turkey?   
“Your Majesties!” The man behind the counter boomed, clapping his hands altogether too loudly, “Here now,” he took the parchment, wrapping it around two of the great drumsticks and handing them over the table, “You will not find finer goose in all the realms.”   
Thor nodded, took the legs, handing one to Loki who put his hands in the air, “I have had my fill so I will share with Master Denehy.”  
Colin looked up at the man and nodded, gingerly taking the drumstick from Loki's hand, “Thankee, yer Majesty.” He would pick at it a little to be polite then discard it, the mead was turning his stomach as well as his head.  
“Your Majesty, if I might ask a question?” The man wiped his greasy hands on the apron around his waist and leaned over the table to Thor as he cocked his thumb toward Colin, “Is he one o' them Midgardians we hear tell of?”  
Colin nearly dropped the leg as he listened to the man. He looked to Loki, confused.  
“He is indeed, Bolan. He has only just arrived a few days past. You may address him directly if you so wish.”  
Bolan peered at Colin, hesitated as he regarded Colin further and spoke, slowly as if Colin were simple, “How many more of your kind are expected to follow, if you do not mind me asking?”  
Colin was at a loss for words, looking again at Loki though he gave no indication the question was out of order.  
“That is one question wherein he is not at liberty to answer, Bolan, forgive me,” Loki gave a slight bow.   
“I ken, your Majesty, but tell me, are the Midgardians coming to stay?”   
Colin watched Bolan wring his hands before him. He seemed in great distress and Colin made a mental note to ask Loki why when they were away from the booth.  
“They will be among us for some time as they learn about our ways,” Thor joined in, “I cannot say how many, if any, will remain in Asgard.”  
They chatted a moment longer though Bolan kept stealing glances at Colin. Finally he looked down at the cobblestones at his feet, “Forgive me, Master...”  
“Denehy..” Colin finished for him.... “Not at all, I...”  
“It's just....we have seen few Midgardians excepting the new queen. We have heard stories of your kind for ages. I never expected you to look....like us.”  
“Aye, we're made from the building blocks, bones, skin, blood, atoms, molecules, but then you probably have no idea what that means,” Colin felt Loki and Thor staring at him, “It's science...”  
“You sound like Brenna when she tries to explain what she has learned at her Midgardian school,” Silas piped up, startling him. Silas had been strangely silent as they'd made their way around the square. Colin had started to suspect Silas was less than fond of him, a fact confirmed as he looked over his shoulder to see Silas frowning.  
“Silas,”   
Colin turned to see Loki glaring at the young man and waited for Loki to say more but nothing else seemed to be needed as Silas bowed.  
“Forgive me, Master Denehy. I misspoke.”  
“No apology necessary. I should like to enlighten you in the near future. The science of biology is fascinating...”   
“Excuse us Bolan, we will be on our way now. Good day to you,” Thor cut in as he herded them away from the booth.  
“Good day, your Majesties!” Colin heard the man call out as Thor steered close to him.  
“Master Denehy. Our culture knows little of your science. It is only with great patience from Jane that I have kenned the mysteries of the simple act of procreation. Your teaching would be as a foreign language even to our most learned men.”  
“Then perhaps it'd be wise to bring the brightest together and start from the bottom up, yer Majesty,” Colin watched Loki shake his head as Thor chuckled.  
“I do not think that will be necessary.”  
Colin slowed until he began to fall behind, felt Loki's hand at his arm stopping him altogether as Thor and Silas approached another booth.   
“Colin, I would speak plainly with you.”  
Colin nodded as Thor spoke to the young ladies at the booth selling brightly colored scarves, “By all means, yer Highness.”  
Here Loki hesitated, lowered his voice, “My brother believes we should keep our worlds as far apart as possible despite what will soon come to pass.”  
Colin stole another look at Thor but he was engrossed in conversation with the prettier of the two maidens at the booth, “And does yer Highness concur?”  
Loki sighed, “Though I fear it is all but inevitable, I am a bit more resigned than the King, however, you ken we will do all we must to keep Asgard as it is now.”  
Colin prodded him further although he was pretty certain he understood what Loki was saying, “Keep Asgard as it is? I don't understand....”  
Loki's answer brought color to his face, “Do you not, indeed? You know we shun your technology and as such we have taken thorough measures to limit its use outside the portal site. You, as a liaison, are an exception thus we allow you to use your...devices...as needed. We are to receive each report you send to Midgard regarding this assignment for our archives. In theory, this will ensure all rules are being carefully followed.”  
“As well they should be, yer Highness,” Colin was greatly relieved he wasn't required to send his personal journal along with his reports, “You want to keep Asgard simple..” Colin squeezed his eyes shut, “No, poor choice of words....you want to avoid the mistakes you perceive Midgard has made...”  
When he opened his eyes again, Loki was smiling.  
“You lie, Master Denehy. You ken very well and I believe as you spend more time among us, you will come to appreciate our way of life.”  
Colin watched Thor turn to glance at them, “Tell me, yer Highness....while we're speaking plainly...this...” Operation felt too military especially at this point, “This science expedition which will soon be here, how many of yer people know about it? I was after the opinion it was to be kept largely secret, now I find the local shopkeep on the street is well aware of our coming arrival.”  
Loki regarded him, “Our palace is full of servants. It has always been this way. They are so integral, their presence is oft forgotten in even the most private of settings. We discuss matters aloud, sometimes without a thought to the wine steward, the valet, the serving girl in the darkness beyond the firelight. Thus are rumors spread, secrets revealed. Likely the shopkeep knows someone in the palace or perhaps has seen the longhouses being built in the clearing outside of the city. It can hardly be kept from them for long as the Midgardians will soon be here in the same capacity as you.”  
Thor had returned to them by now so Colin swallowed his reply.  
“Come, the women bade us return before the sun set. Let us seek them out before we incur their wrath.”

 

“Do you know to whom you speak!” Gunnar cried.  
Fen stared wide-eyed at Gunnar as he faced the two older boys standing before them.  
Gunnar and Fen had roamed the square for the better part of the afternoon, visiting stalls, begging a sweet on occasion, filching a piece of fruit, stopping to watch a puppet show or a strolling magician, following a group of girls, teasing them. They had passed without noticing the two boys standing beside one of the stalls in the far corner of the square, until one of them ran up behind Fen giving his ponytail a thorough yank. With a yelp, Fen swung around to face his attacker who sprang backwards with a laugh and a taunt, “Look Alger, a couple of babes escaped from their nursemaid!”  
At Gunnar's challenge they laughed even harder. The one called Alger put his hands on his hips, “Indeed we do. I believe it be the whoreson princeling. Second born of the second born!”  
Gunnar put his hand on the short sword at his waist, “Wag your tongue so grievously again and I shall be obliged to cut it off!”  
Alger elbowed his companion with a roar of laughter, “Say you so? What have we to fear from the Servant Prince and his pet? Methinks were I to raise his tunic, I would find his mother's cord still attached!”  
Fen could not find his voice, try as hard as he might. He had been stunned to silence, the insult so clearly meant for his mother cutting through to his very heart. Gunnar drew his sword from the scabbard with a growl, “Your father must be a troll for you do sound so base. Apologize to the Prince before I run you through!”  
The threat moved Fen to action and he grabbed for Gunnar's arm, “Come away, can you not see they play with us? Come away!”  
“Yes,” Alger chuckled, “Do run with your princess before you do yourself harm with that table knife.”  
Fen could hear Algers footsteps close behind, smell the greasy sweat of a stall rat, the soft chuckle as Alger reached for the collar of his cloak. With surprising speed, Fen drove his elbow backwards into Alger's gut, turning as the boy bent forward to drive his knee into his forehead, setting Alger back on his behind with a grunt. Fen started forward to take hold of Alger's tunic, expecting him to call hold but the hand that shot up to connect with his lip felt far from defeated. He stumbled backward as Alger leaped up with a snarl, driving him to the ground with another well place fist...

 

Brenna held up a silk scarf in shades of purple and pink, the setting sun casting a shimmer across the fabric. She'd broken off from the group to wander for a while before the bonfire ceremony, hoping she would spot her father and uncle so she could join them, perhaps find a chance to engage Colin, talk about Midgard though she'd failed to find them as of yet, so crowded was the square becoming. Being left with the other women made her feel like a child even at nearly twenty seasons. She took a few coins from the pouch at her belt, dropped them into the vendor's hand and thanked her as she moved on to the next stall.  
She'd not gotten much further when she noticed a gathering of people a short ways off. She could hear shouts and catcalls as she started for them, scanning the square for her father as she neared the group, he would certainly put an end to any brawls.

 

Clutching a fistful of Algers hair, Fen pressed his cheek to the rough stones, refusing to let go even as the boy struggled beneath him. They had rolled about for the better part of five minutes, the crowd growing around them.   
“Let go of my hair, you mangy whoreson! You horse's pizzle!” Alger shouted, blood from his split lip spattering the ground, “Your father is a Jotunn! Your mother a Dokkalfari!” Alger screeched, managing to snake his hands beneath him, throwing Fen from his back. “I shall crack your skull like a plovers egg!”  
Fen landed hard, scraping the skin across his spine, the air rushing from his lungs with a whoop. Before he could recover, Alger was atop him in a turnabout. Fen had only a second to look up at Gunnar, throwing himself about wildly, desperate to free himself of two other boys who held him by his arms when Alger smacked his head hard off the cobblestones and all at once he felt his stomach lurch as Alger raised his head to drop it down again. He would surely faint this time, hated the thought of swooning like a girl.  
“You stink of the chamberpot! You are the son of a serving wench...nothing could be...”  
Quite suddenly Alger's hands disappeared from Fen's head. He struggled to his side, trying to hold the contents of his stomach in as he gazed about, searching for his missing assailant. What he found nearly turned his belly inside out.  
Brenna knelt on the ground a few feet distant, Alger's neck in the crook of her arm, her other hand holding it like a vise as he gasped for breath, yanking at her arm in a vain attempt to escape.  
“You sonofabitch!” Brenna growled as Alger's arms drooped, his eyes rolled up into his head, “You picked a fight with the wrong worm!”  
With a final groan, Alger's body went limp and the boys who had been holding Gunnar back raced away into the throng  
There were murmurs in the crowd as she dropped the unconscious boy to the pavement and stood up, glaring at those who had not already started to move away, “Shame upon you, all of you! Is there no one that could have broken up such a cruel mismatch?”   
Fen sat up holding his head, felt a hand on his shoulder as Gunnar squatted down beside him.  
“Forgive me, Fen. I could not wrest myself from those slatterns!”   
“Are you out of your mind?!”   
Fen looked up to spy Brenna who now stood above him with her hand out  
Fen let her pull him up to stand, groaning in pain as he did so. Every square inch of him hurt.   
“They insulted mother and father!” Fen cried, wincing as each word tore at the skin of his bloodied lip, “I had to defend their honor!”   
For a moment, he swayed unsteadily then bent forward, his stomach finally winning the war as he vomited the day's food onto the pavement.  
“You probably have a concussion. What a fool thing to do. Could you not walk away? You foolish little worm.”  
Fen spit onto the ground, trying to clear his mouth, “Honor is of utmost....” He groaned again, “Importance....What is a.....concussion?”  
He felt her arm around his back, supporting him as they wove through the throngs of people, “Let us find Mama and Papa, soonest begun is soonest done.”

 

The sun had gained the mountain ridges when Thor, Loki, Silas and Colin located Eidra and the rest of the group.  
“We must head for the bonfire. It will soon be time,” Thor offered his arm to Jane as Loki looked about.  
“Where are Brenna and Fen?”   
He felt a great tug on his breeches and bent to pick up Astrid who locked her arms about his neck, “They should be close by, the day grows old.”  
Eidra scanned the crowd, “Brenna went off by herself ages ago. Fen and Gunnar I have not seen since we told them they could run about.”  
“Fen should be here. It is his passage year, he should be at my side,” Loki handed Astrid to Eidra, stroked Cait's hair, chiding her as she tried to heft Brynn onto her hip, “Put him down, he is too heavy for you.”  
A shout from Thor made them all turn to see Brenna, her arm around Fen's shoulder, making her way toward them. Eidra's cry was cut short as her hands flew to her mouth.  
“Gods help me, what in Odin's name has happened?” Eidra rushed to Fen who kept his eyes on the ground at his feet.  
“He was in a fight, Mama,” Brenna kept her gaze upon Fen. She could feel her father's anger, his disappointment as he put his hands on her brother's shoulders. Gunnar had retreated to Ingrid's side, avoiding his father's steel stare.  
“Fenris, answer your mother and by extension myself. How in the Allfather's name did this happen?”  
Fen felt a lump in his throat as the anger overtook him again. Not only had his family been insulted by that bitch's whelp, now he was in danger of crying before the entire family.“A boy named Alger called me a whoreson and a babe in arms. Gunnar tried to come to my defense but the boy only taunted me further...when he began to insult Mama, then you, I could bear it no longer and I lashed out at him,” Fen sniffed, wiped his nose, alarmed to see a fair amount of blood upon the back of his hand.  
“You should have walked away. Instead you have lowered yourself. You have given weight to their cruel remarks.”  
Loki could feel Eidra hovering at his elbow, eager to enfold Fen in her arms. Though he understood her concern, to do so in the middle of the square would only embarrass the boy further. He took Eidra's hand, felt her give his a tight squeeze as he pointed across the square to the palace looming high overhead, “For your punishment, you shall watch the bonfire not at my side but from the nursery window in the palace.”  
“Papa!” Fen cried, raising his head, “Please no! I only fought for your honor!”  
Loki's heart ached as he took in Fen's blackened eye, his face scratched and bloody, “You would have honored me better had you ignored their bullying and walked away from the fight. You represent the royal family and therefore must uphold the image of respect. To that end, my punishment stands firm.”  
Loki turned to Eidra, “Take him inside and see he is cleaned up for I have no doubt I could not convince you to do otherwise.”  
“Hardly,” Eidra muttered as she took Fen's hand, felt Loki's light kiss at her temple and his whisper in her ear, “Forgive me, my heart.”  
She pressed herself into his second kiss before leading Fen toward the palace doors  
“And your punishment shall be to stay by my side, where you can cause no more trouble this evening,” came Silas's low rumble behind Gunnar.   
“Yes Father.”Gunnar flinched, turning to face his father, drawing himself up tall,   
“Did I not charge you with protecting the young prince?”  
“Yes Father, I shall not falter again.”  
Gunnar felt his mother's hand at his back, “I promise.”

Colin was unaware he'd been standing, gobsmacked, for the past five minutes until Brenna tapped him on the shoulder.   
“Are you well, Colin?”  
Colin started forward, swinging about to stare at her, “Have you ever felt like you've stepped into another world?”  
“You rather have,” Brenna smiled gently but Colin waved his hands.  
“No, I mean..,” he massaged his forehead, “Ah damn...into another time then?”  
Brenna continued to smile, Colin finally returning the same, “I rather have, aye, I ken.”  
“Let us find a better perspective from which to see the bonfires,” she took his arm, steering him from the others toward the palace doors which swung open for them as they made the steps, “The walk along the courtyard wall has a wonderful view.  
“Uh, yer...Highness....,” Colin stammered as they hurried through the silent palace halls to the western courtyard.  
“Please..” Brenna laughed, “If you call me Highness again, I shall refuse to speak to you.”  
In the face of such a dire threat, he swallowed hard, nodded, “Very well, Brenna then. Only don't tell yer father I address you so familiar.”  
“I will tell him it is my wish that you do. Why do you fear him so?”   
They rushed into the western courtyard, servants bowing to her as they passed on their way up the stairs to the top of the wall, “Unless it is for the reason I suspect all Midgardians fear him.”  
“Begging yer pardon?”  
The smile faded from Brenna's face as she mimicked holding something in her hands, pointing it at him, “Bang bang..?”  
Colin frowned, “I'll not lie, seeing as you seem to know but I also admit I've not been privy to all of the classified material, not yet. The files are a level six clearance, at least the files that get into the serious stuff. They sent me here blind as a newborn kit, likely to stop me from running away in fright.”  
“Most assuredly but tell me..” They had made the walkway at the top, looking out over the crowd, “Now that you have been here a while, has your experience been as terrible as you expected?”  
Colin gazed out over the huge square. In the distance, he could see Loki and Thor and the others standing near the central pile of wood, addressing the crowd. About the large pole near the entrance to the palace, a group of young women danced around in circles, laughing, holding brightly colored ribbons in their hand as they dodged one another.  
“You know, dancing about the may pole was a fertility ritual, so says me grandad.”  
“You are artful in dodging questions.” Brenna said in his ear and he had to steady himself not to stumble forward off the walkway into the crowd below.  
“Aye, fergive me....no...no..I rather like Asgard though I can't say yet the feeling is mutual.”  
Brenna steered him to the wall where she sat down with her back to the stone, patting the wooden slats beside her, “I found the same reception on Midgard.”  
Colin dropped down, crossing his legs as they watched the last sliver of the sun start to slide behind the mountains, “You say you went to school on Midgard. I can't get the image of your Da walking you into the headmaster's office and demanding he sign you on.”  
Brenna tugged at the hem of her dress, “It did not happen like that.....I ran away.”  
“Ran away? Yer yanking me chain.”  
Brenna sat up straight, “I took the Uruz from my father while he slept and ran away to Midgard. I landed in New York City and was found by Chase....,” she stopped, bit her lip, “..who brought me to Xavier's school for mutants...they do not call it as such but that is what it is. Father came looking for me but I refused to leave. I stayed there until I graduated from what you call high school.”  
Colin watched her twist the hem of her dress as if she were trying to strangle it, “And so you stayed on Midgard, end of story?”  
Brenna shook her head, “There is much more though I would know you better before I revealed the rest.”  
Colin looked up to the mountain as the sun slipped out of sight.  
“It is painful to tell, forgive me....,” she sighed, forced a smile to her face and let loose the hem of her dress, “So we will talk of much more pleasant things. I promised Papa I would stay here in Asgard for a year before deciding to return to Midgard and college. He thinks I will change my mind and wish to remain here.”  
“Will you?”  
“HA!” she laughed aloud, “I will become a Midgardian nurse, you have my word.”  
A cheer rose from the crowd below and they stood in time to see Thor toss a large torch into the midst of the woodpile, the flames racing along the pitch soaked wood, consuming the small tinder as the fire grew. Colin and Brenna joined in, clapping and hollering. Women were hugging one another, men lifted children to see above the heads of the people. Colin spied Loki, Brynn seated on his shoulder, could just make out Silas holding up Astrid while Cait stood before Jane with her hands out to feel the warmth of the flames.  
“There's Vesta and Hal..,” Brenna pointed further into the crowd...”Gretten....I do believe he's smiling!”  
“He's likeable enough,” Colin nodded, “He just pretends he's...grumpy..remind me never to tell him the story about Snow White.”  
“You are terrible,” Brenna giggled as she turned to gaze out over the city, “Look, see all the other bonfires.”  
Colin leaned on the wall beside her. Beyond the great square, all around the city and further still into the distant counrtyside, other bonfires were being lit in smaller squares, family enclaves, on hills, small towns. The landscape was ablaze with fire as far as he could see, silhouetting houses, spires, glinting off windows, throwing warm light so it seemed the whole city, the whole world was aglow. He had never seen anything more beautiful.  
“Is it not breathtaking?” Brenna murmured.  
“A wonder...sights like this on Midgard are rare now. Too much light pollution, overpowers the dark spaces.”  
They were quiet for a moment, watching, listening.  
“I was abducted.”  
Colin turned to look at Brenna, “I beg yer pardon?”  
“I was abducted,” Brenna repeated a bit firmer, “....by Chase's father. Chase, whom I was seeing at the time, told his father about what I could do but his father misunderstood. He believed I could do something I was not capable of. He thought I was able to cure people of illness, mental illness in this case.”  
“Can you not now?”  
She shook her head, “Healing is not the same as curing. I can heal a broken bone, a shattered glass, a smashed wheel, even a gunshot or a....stab wound because connections, blood vessels, muscles, nerves have been broken, severed. I cannot cure cancer or heart disease, the flu...the common cold..”  
Colin whistled softly, “And what happened to him? The father I mean.”  
“Prison.”  
“Mmm, and what of the boyfriend?”  
Brenna glanced down at her hands, “We parted on friendly terms.”  
“So that's it in a nutshell?”  
Brenna shrugged, “All I am willing to speak of at this point....let us go find the others before my father becomes frantic.”  
As Colin followed Brenna through the crowd, he kept his eyes at her back, studying her figure in the warm glow of the bonfires  
All at once, she reached behind her and grabbed his wrist, “I wanted to make sure you were still following me,” she called back.  
Colin smiled, “Wouldn't be anywhere else.”

 

Eidra guided a silent Fen through the deserted halls to the nursery, sitting him down in one of the chairs by the fireplace. Helgi, who had brought a cranky Edie up to the nursery to lay her down earlier in the afternoon, was now snoring on the daybed beside her. She awoke with a start when Eidra spoke to Fen,“Stay here, I will fetch a basin of water and a cloth.”  
“Odin wept! What has happened?” Helgi sat up catching sight of Fen and nearly falling from the bed in her haste to rise.  
“Helgi, please take care,” Eidra whispered, “Fen was in a scuffle, nothing more.”  
Helgi searched for her cane lying beside the bed, “My child, what were you thinking?”  
“He was not. Stay here. I will be back. I must get water to clean him up with.”  
“I will fetch it for you,” Helgi waved at her but Eidra put a hand on Helgi's shoulder, easing her back to the daybed.  
“Nonsense, the basin is much too heavy for you. Stay with Fen,” Eidra touched her hand to Helgi's cheek, “If you will, could you find a lantern and light it? The fire is much too dim to see by.”  
Helgi was up before Eidra reached the nursery door. Minutes later she returned with a small bowl of water and a linen cloth. Fen hadn't moved from his position in the chair. Helgi had placed a lit lantern on the fireplace mantel and was now sitting on the daybed with her hands atop her cane.  
Eidra set the bowl down on the floor in front of Fen and turned to Helgi, “I need another favor of you. Could you see if Clotho is in his rooms? I need some salve for these cuts.”  
“Of course, poppet,” Helgi rose, shuffled over to Fen, stroked his forehead, “You listen well to your mother, I will return anon.”  
As the door closed behind Helgi Eidra knelt before the chair, dipped the cloth in the water and started tenderly to wipe the blood from his lip, the cut at the corner of his brow, working in silence for a time, clucking her tongue as the scrapes and wounds revealed themselves beneath the blood and the dirt until at last she could hold her words back no longer.  
“I must agree with Helgi. What possessed you?”  
At first Fen said nothing, she felt his body tense beneath her hands as she continued, “Such conduct is unbecoming a royal...”  
His voice tremulous, he blurted out, “Mama, the boy was saying horrendous things about you, about Papa!”  
Eidra put her hand upon his chest, “Peace, be still, my love. Take your time and measure your words.”  
Fen drew a hitching breath then, closing his eyes, “He called you a serving wench and a Dokkalfar! Said Father was a Jotunn! Called us babes!”  
Eidra set the cloth on the edge of the bowl and put her hands on his knees, “They are but words and words cannot harm us. You allowed those boys to find your weakness, the chinks in your armor. Now I know you are stronger than this. We must be magnanimous in our dealings with others. Do not forget, you represent the royal family, just as your father said. Heed his advice and disregard those ruffians.”  
Fen's bottom lip started to quiver and in that moment, before her sat not a boy of twelve seasons but her baby, her first born son. She put her hand to his cheek as he succumbed to the anguish coursing within him, putting his head down on her shoulder with a sob, his tears wetting the shoulder of her dress.  
“Shh, all is well, all is well.” Eidra rubbed his back, unsettled. Being called a Dokkalfari was no more than a slur, just as they had called Loki a Jotunn. The names meant nothing to her but when Fen had shown disgust at the thought of his mother being called a servant, she wanted to tell him there was nothing wrong with an honest day's work, a job done well though she held her tongue. Even as his rite of passage approached, he was still just a young boy. With time would come wisdom.  
Fen sat back in the chair, “I swear Mama, I will never forget his name. I will remember his face. Ere I meet with him again, I will restore honor to our family, I shall cut out his tongue with my dagger..!”  
Eidra sat back on her heels, hearing her husband's voice in her son's words.  
“Do not say such things, Fen! You honor me by forgetting the entire incident ever happened. He is a rough youth and not worth your attention,” she stood, taking his chin in her hand, “Promise me you will let this go.”  
A dark shadow crossed his face, “I will try Mama...”  
Eidra kissed the top of his head as a cheer erupted in the square far below, “Come to the window, let us see the bonfires.”  
Through the window overlooking the courtyard, they watched the bonfires blaze high into the sky, the flames seeming to lick at the stars overhead. Fen leaned on the sill of the window as Eidra clasped her hand atop his,  squeezed it, “Now the days start to shorten, the summer is half over....and soon you will be a man.”


	10. 10

“Isn't this your floor?”  
Simon looked up from his tablet at the elevator doors as they slid open, then at the speaker, an older gentleman who'd already been on the elevator when he'd gotten on.  
“Ah, yes thank you,” Simon nodded, clutching his tablet to his chest and stepping out into the corridor on the thirty-fourth floor of the New York Marriott. He proceeded past the cookie cutter doors on either side of the corridor, past the door to his suite. He kept walking until he reached the tall windows at the end of the hall and stood there looking out over the lights of Manhattan, leaning his forehead on the cold glass, trying to see over the ledge to the pavement far below.  
“Third night in a row,” a voice piped up beside him. He stayed as he was though he could see her reflection in the glass.  
“The view helps me keep things in perspective,” he muttered.  
“The view makes me nauseous,” Beth giggled, putting her forehead to the glass beside him glancing down, quickly backing away.  
“Are you nervous?”  
Simon thought long and hard. T-minus forty-eight hours and counting, “I suppose I'd be a fool and a liar to admit I'm not a little uptight.”  
“There's so much to remember, so many rules to keep track of,” She giggled again, bit her lip hard to stop herself.  
Simon stood back from the glass, regarding the heavyset young woman whom he'd been seated next to in orientation for the past three days, “They have their reasons. Rules are made to..”  
“Be broken?” she finished with a smile.  
“......to protect life and property, maintain proper etiquette,” Simon sighed, looked again out over the city.  
“Riiight....” Beth hiked her purse up on her shoulder, “Well then, I guess it's off to bed for me. Night, Simon.”   
“Goodnight, Miss Chapel,” He watched her reflection retreat down the hallway to her door. After a few more minutes, he returned to his own room. Once inside, he set his tablet on the table by the window, turned on the air conditioner and the tv and lay crossways on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, listening to the local newscast, dinner refusing to settle in his stomach.   
It was a true wonder that he'd even made it this far. He closed his eyes, picturing his screened in back porch where he would be right now, sitting in his chaise lounge watching the fireflies, listening to the gurgle of the stream in the woods across the yard, a good book in his lap, the vision so clear, so vivid he felt like crying.  
The small house he'd bought in Tarrytown was a fixer upper. It had needed a lot of TLC. When he wasn't at his job at the accounting firm in town, he could be found splattered with paint or covered in sawdust, brush in hand, ecstatically happy. He'd taken the accounting job in Tarrytown while he waited for other jobs to come along, jobs that would make use of the degrees hanging on his wall, the Masters in environmental science, the Bachelor's in physics. Then came the downsizing and he had been forced to face his biggest fears, looking for a new job. Unfortunately the closest jobs with comparable salaries were in the city.   
New York terrified him, the hustle and bustle, the people, the speed at which life ran. The commute alone, nearly forty-five minutes on the MTA, made him break out into a cold sweat but he had a mortgage to pay. So he had started to look for a job for the first time in ten years. One opening that caught his attention from the start was a job in the accounting department at Stark Industries in the center of Manhattan. After he'd emailed his resume to the company, he had put his head down on his desk and laid there for a long time.   
In retrospect, he had fallen into a rut, embraced the familiar instead of following his heart, searching for openings elsewhere in his field, nevertheless, two weeks later he was stepping onto the platform at the train station in Tarrytown, headed to his first day at work.  
That had been two years ago.  
He sat up on the bed and started to unbutton his shirt, smiling to himself at one of the prouder moments of his life.  
He had managed to adapt to the city, commuting back and forth to his little oasis in the countryside. The money was good, his co-workers were tolerable. The tall brunette who would stare at him when she thought he couldn't see her was a bit disturbing but other than that, he managed. Until the day he'd gotten off at the wrong floor.  
As was typical, he hadn't been paying attention to where he was going, having his face stuffed in his tablet and so had missed his floor on the way back from lunch. He'd walked off the elevator, looking up when he judged himself close to his office door and realized his mistake. He swiftly changed course, heading back toward the elevator. As he did so, he noticed to his left a large glass walled room. He slowed down to glance inside, where sat at a table a man with salt and pepper hair his back to Simon. Another man with light brown curly hair and large brown framed glasses stood talking to him. That man Simon recognized. Everyone in the world of physics would know Doctor Banner's face though he'd aged a bit since Simon had read some of his works in college. Simon started to move along again, embarrassed by watching what was obviously a private conversation. Taking one more look about the room, he spied the long calculation written on the dry erase board behind them.  
And he stopped.  
It was wrong, he could see it from where he stood. He saw the man sitting at the table throw his hands in the air, look up at Doctor Banner, then slap the back of his hand into his palm. He was yelling, Simon could hear it through the glass, the tone though not the words themselves. Banner leaned over the table and pointed at something, raised his head and looked at Simon who was now standing there, arms limp at his side, mouth hung open as he raced through the formula in his head.  
So engrossed was he in his figures, he didn't see the man stand up from the table and walk to the door at the other end of the room.  
“Can we help you?”  
Simon nearly dropped his tablet, for staring at him was his boss, Tony Stark.   
Mister Stark bent over, read Simon's badge, “Accounting. You're about ten floors too high, Mister...” he eyed the badge again, “...Foster. Are you new here?”  
Simon had shaken his head felt Mister Stark's hand at his back as he was guided away from the room, “Okay, well nice meeting you. You're doing a wonderful job..”  
All at once, Simon found his tongue, “You're wrong..”  
Mister Stark paused, “So you're not doing a wonderful job? I'm a bit confused...do you want to confess your sins, my son?”  
“N..no...” Simon had shrugged off Stark's hand and started for the door to the glass walled room. If he was going to be looking for another job in the morning he might as well go out with style.  
“Your calculations, the..the.. form....” he stammered as Stark walked up to the door and waved his badge across the security pad. Simon strode through the doorway over to the board, picked up the red marker and began wiping out the errors with the sleeve of his shirt, “The formula wouldn't work like this...” Simon backed away from the board, thought a moment, wrote his corrections and set the marker down ever so slowly in the dead silence that had taken over the room.  
Mister Stark walked up to the board, followed by Banner.   
“Jarvis? Would you run this through for me, like it's written now?”  
Simon had stumbled backward as a hologram of a large glowing ring set in a square base had appeared before his face and a disembodied voice filled the room, “The portal is stabilized. Energy output levels are nominal. There is a slight variance in the resonance, a different base will need to be constructed..”  
“Thank you Jarvis.”  
Simon meanwhile had started for the door with his tablet firmly clutched against his chest like a schoolgirl's books.  
“Foster? Where are you going?”  
There it was. Simon turned about to face Mister Stark, “My..b..best guess is home, sir.”  
He had to smile as Stark looked at his watch, “It's nowhere near quitting time. If I read your badge right and, Jesus my eyes aren't that bad yet, you're in accounting? How the hell did that happen?”  
Simon shrugged, “It was the only job opening I found, sir.”

He never left the lab until well past seven that evening, coming away with a new position in the team and an offer he would have been a fool to refuse no matter how frightening the terms were.  
He'd asked his Aunt Dion to take care of his mail and watch the house. With the advance from Stark, he only had yearly taxes to worry about. Even though the mortgage was a huge bill erased from his ledger, he felt strangely disappointed, felt he hadn't really worked to pay it off.   
He folded his shirt neatly and set it on the chair by the desk then entered the bathroom and frowned. Housecleaning had moved his toothpaste tube and brush holder, his shaving razor and his hairbrush off to the side. He lined them back up to the right of the sink in the order he was going to use them, caught himself, cursed silently. He had been doing well as of late. He'd been able to lock the door to his house and not check on it twice before he reached his car. Washing up only took half an hour now. He wasn't counting building windows, floor tiles and the like. His doctor had been proud of him at their last visit but damnit, he was under a lot of stress and stress made him nervous. Being nervous made him paranoid and so went the cycle.  
He made himself brush his hair first, then his teeth even though ruining the sequence made him tremble until he set the items back in the right order.  
Once back in the room, he changed into his pajamas and put his dirty clothes on the chair. He would take them down to the cleaners the next morning. He slid beneath the sheets, muted the TV. Turning on his side, Simon looked at the clock on the nightstand and sighed, “T-minus forty-seven.” as he pulled the covers tight to him and closed his eyes.

 

  
_Assignment: 64379-01  
Location: Asgard _

_Agent: Colin M. Denehy  
Date: 6/28/20 _

_Two days out. Two days to go time. I believe I've done the best I can to prepare the Asgardians for culture shock, at least the Asgardians I know. A few days ago, a huge gathering was called in a vast field outside the city walls. The week before, couriers had been sent about the kingdom and the realms to announce the event so all who wished to hear the details of what was to come would be welcome to do so.  
Never have I seen the like of it before, nor, I suspect, will I ever again in my lifetime. Alfheim was well represented by King Freyr and a large number of Alfari citizens. They are a singularly beautiful race, enchanting, well spoken. The Vanir from Vanaheim, many of the race are powerful seers and possess profound wisdom. I found them a bit full of themselves but I suppose it's to be expected when one thinks one knows everything. The citizens of Muspelheim were well and away the most fascinating because they are known as fire giants or Jotunns.   
Red skinned, had I not seen them I would have assumed as such by their monikers, lithe in form they could be described as beautiful with their coal black eyes and raised markings all over their skin. They come in varying sizes but they are as a rule, much taller than humans. I, myself, only came to their waist and I'm six feet plus. There are those among them who are able to shape shift as well to appear human though I don't know if it applies to all Jotunns. I had the pleasure to be introduced to one named Velos. He is the son of the ruler of Muspelheim, Surtr. As a giant, he could crush my head with one hand. As a human, he comes to my shoulder. He has an unassuming way about him, eager to please, well spoken, engaging. He was fascinated with me, asking endless questions until his wife, an Alfari woman named Marwen, chided him for being so curious. I assured him he would have plenty of time for questions later. He and his wife will be staying at the manor as part of the welcoming delegation two days from now.  
The dark elves from Svartalheim were sparsely represented. A severe looking race, forgive me but it's true, they wore heavy clothing as protection from the sunlight, shielding their skin, which comes in varying shades of black, coal, tar, night sky. Their hair ranges from gray to white it being their general color, and they interact little with the other citizens of the realm. Still I had to admire them for their grudging presence as from what Loki has told me, they are more bent toward war than games. One realm was not represented, the ice giants from Jotunheim. A courier was sent to deliver the announcement under cover of some ancient law of protection concerning communication during times of peace. According to the King, it was the only thing that saved the courier's life according to the scathing letter he handed over when he returned.   
I recorded King Thor's entire speech, including it in my current report. I also recorded the reaction of the masses. I hate to say it was less than enthusiastic, though not entirely negative. I would have expected more cheers instead of jeers but there it is.   
On a more personal note, Fen is healing well, rather quicker than you or I. He was made to write a letter of apology to the boy, Alger and deliver it to his family, doing so with much bitterness, half toward his punishment and half toward having to apologize for the fight. He perceives it to be Alger's fault for starting the whole affair. I agreed with him though I echoed his parent's advice that he shouldn't have risen to the occasion. He knew I was right even as he kept his admission to himself.  
Brenna has been seeking me out regularly much to my joy and terror. We have our chats about Earth...Midgard...call it what you will. We talk music, she talks books (I never was much of a reader), places we want to go, things we like to do. I think Loki is aware of her increased attention but as of yet, he's not said anything to me, I can't say he hasn't said anything to her. Still he doesn't treat me any different so maybe he thinks it's harmless. It's been said that the Alfari race enchant people with their beauty. I can safely say Brenna represents her heritage well. The assignment guidelines forbid intimate interaction. They can't mean simple friendships, can they?   
Okay, I've done my chore for the evening and my head has about dropped into my lap for the third time. I'll be signing off now. Big days ahead. Got to be prepared for anything._

_Colin.._


	11. 11

“Astrid share with your brother.” Eidra brushed a stray lock of hair from her face and leaned back on her heels  
“Look at Edie and Cait,” Ingrid giggled.  
Edie and Cait were sitting on a blanket, shaded by the long hedgerow at the edge of the garden. Cait had been trying to braid Edie's hair with minimal result.  
“You missed it again!” shouted Astrid and their attention was drawn to the twins glaring at each other over a leather covered ball.  
“Astrid! Brynn,” Eidra shouted to them, “Come to me.”  
“Children will be children, Eidra,” Ingrid bent down, pulling more weeds from around the onions.  
“But if Brynn gets upset, he may have another attack.”   
Astrid trudged up the row with a petulant look on her face, stopping behind Ingrid.  
“Why do you not toss the ball back and forth with Brynn, must you hold it?”  
“I was throwing the ball to him, Mama,” Astrid crossed her arms, “Brynn is the one who misses it all the time. We do not play toss, we play drop.”  
She was serious but Ingrid could not help it, she laughed aloud. Eidra, on the other hand, looked up at the sky. “Then there is nothing for it. You will take a nap so that you will be fresh for the evening meal. We have guests tonight and I expect good behavior from you.”  
“Noooo! Mama! I want to stay outside!” Astrid wailed, “I am not tired!”  
Eidra stood up, ignoring the crying toddler, lifting her to her hip as she turned to Ingrid, “I shall be back as soon as I can...Brynn!”  
Ingrid watched Eidra stride down the row toward the manor with both children in tow. She'd been uptight all day waiting for the men to return from the palace. Every time they would hear horses on the roadway, she would pause and listen, sighing when no one came trotting down the lane to the manor. More Midgardians would be arriving on the morrow and everyone who was in the know seemed anxious, including Eidra. A shout from the road and a horse's whinny brought Ingrid's head up again but when the sounds drifted into the distance Ingrid returned to the weeding until her back was too stiff to go any further. She looked toward the house then to Edie and Cait.  
“Come girls, let us escape the high heat,” Ingrid brushed the dirt from her apron and started toward the girls as they stared to fold the blanket between them.

 

Helgi was sitting by the open kitchen door knitting and talking to Gretten as Ingrid walked inside, “Have you seen Eidra? She came in with the twins.”  
“She brought them upstairs to nap. We have heard nothing since. Likely she's fallen asleep right along with them,” Gretten grunted.  
“She is beside herself,” Helgi set the knitting in her lap, “Though she claims she worries for Loki, methinks she has her own misgivings.”  
“Over the Midgardians? Bah! What has she to be troubled about?” Gretten slapped a ball of dough onto the bread board before him, “They are hardly a threat. I mean look at Colin. I could knock him over with a wink. You women worry over nothing. Milady worries about Milord because he is worried, not because a race of weaklings is about to cross over to Asgard.”   
Edie held her hands in the air but Ingrid shook her head, guiding Edie to stand beside Cait, ignoring the child as she clapped her hands together and held her arms wide again.  
“I am going to check on Eidra,” she nodded to Helgi, “will you watch over the girls for a moment?”  
Helgi opened her arms for Edie who climbed into her lap, “Of course, my dear.”  
“I will be brief,” Ingrid called as she sailed from the room.

 

Eidra lay on her bed, Brynn stretched across her chest, his arms about her neck, Astrid beside her, two delicate fingers entwined about a strand of Eidra's hair. They were all asleep.  
“Eidra,” Ingrid whispered in her ear.  
With a gasp, Eidra's eyes fluttered open. “I knew if I were to lay down, I would fall asleep.”  
“Here, let me help,” Ingrid gently lifted Brynn and lay him next to Astrid as Eidra sat up and stretched.  
“Is Loki home?” Eidra rose and walked to the bedchamber window,   
“No. It is still rather early. Did he not say he would be late tonight because of tomorrow?”  
“He did.”  
Ingrid joined her and they stood staring out over the distant north fields beyond the garden.  
“Eidra, do not worry so. Gretten says the Midgardians are of little concern to us.”  
Eidra rested her forehead against the glass, “Of course we have entertained Brenna's Midgardian friends at the manor, most of them barely past the age of passage. Gretten makes his judgment based upon the assumption the Midgardians are all of them as placid and weak but he has not seen what I have seen. He has never been to Midgard itself. We have more to fear from these visitors than I care to tell, however, it is Loki I am worried about. He has spent the last few nights sleepless at his writing desk, only falling into bed shortly before dawn. Then he is up yet again to the castle. Tonight I shall make him some mulled wine before bed to soothe his nerves.”  
Ingrid set her hand on Eidra's shoulder, “You must trust that the King will proceed with due caution. All will be well.”  
Eidra forced a smile, patting Ingrid's hand, “It must be for we are now committed.”

 

Loki rode in silence, keeping Lightning at a trot. Fen kept pace beside him though he kept slowing to listen to the conversation going on behind them until Loki reached over and tapped Agathon's flank with his riding crop, urging the horse forward.   
On the other side of Fen rode Silas who nodded his approval as he leaned over to Fen, “It is unbecoming for a prince of the realm to listen uninvited to another's private business.”  
Behind them rode Colin and Velos who was asking question after question about Midgard. The conversation set Loki's teeth on edge. He would nothing more were said about Midgard until the morrow but he could hardly chide his guest about his choice of subject matter so he urged Lightning further ahead.  
“Is it true no one in Midgard possesses magic? They cannot do spells?”  
Colin grimaced, wishing Loki would fall back with them to field some of the harder questions. He had to be careful about what he revealed but before he could even consider his answer he heard Brenna pipe up behind him, “There are those special people on Midgard which have powers beyond that of a normal human but they do not call such powers magic, they call them mutations.”  
Colin turned in the saddle to glare at Brenna who was bringing up the rear.  
“What? Do I not speak the truth? What of Miss Munro and Mister Wagner? Doctor Banner, my friends Sophie and Brian? They are all extraordinary people.”  
Velos slowed his horse to come even with Brenna, “And these people, they are revered?”  
“Oh not at all,” Brenna laughed, “They are reviled, seen as a danger to non mutants. They are different and such a thing is frowned upon.”  
“Brenna, steps have been taken to accept mutants into society. It's not like it used to be. You know that,” Colin bristled. He was tired and he felt short as he tilted his head toward Velos, “Yer Highness, there are those who do indeed seem like they can do magic but they are not dangerous.”  
Brenna gave a snort as Velos nodded but she said no more. Colin made a mental note to speak with her later about avoiding a state of widespread panic.  
“Midgardians are a fascinating race, therefore I am happy for the opportunity to represent Muspelheim in the welcoming delegation as I am most eager to meet more of your kind.”  
“As they are to meet you. Will you be...,” Colin paused, searching for the correct terms, at last shaking his head, “....Ah, the same size when they arrive?”  
Velos laughed, “You mean will I appear in my natural form? No, the last thing I wish to do is frighten them. I will look as I do now. After all, it is far easier to navigate Asgard as a human. For instance, I do not need three chairs in which to sit.”  
“I know a few Midgardians who would fit that bill mind you,” Colin chuckled, “But yeah I'd like to break them in slowly. This is going to be a culture shock as it stands now  
When Loki turned into the lane leading to the manor moments later, he broke into a gallop, leaving the others far behind.

 

“The master is home.” Hal called from the sitting room as he ran to open the front door.  
“At last,” Eidra murmured, as she followed along behind Hal.  
By the time Eidra appeared in the doorway Loki had dismounted. As he stood waiting for the rest of the party to reach the dooryard, he gave her a wink but his countenance remained serious.  
Eidra hurried to his side, touched his elbow, “Is everything prepared?”  
“To the best of our ability. What we have not planned for shall reveal itself in time,” he slipped his arm about her waist and she molded herself to his side as the rest of the party brought their horses to a halt in the dooryard.  
Velos who,was first off his horse, walked up to her and bowed, “Milady, thank you for your gracious hospitality.”  
Eidra nodded as Brenna sailed up to her, kissing her on the cheek, “Afternoon, Mama. Where are the children?”  
She pointed up to her bedroom window, “Napping. They have been down for a good while. Wake them if you wish.”  
Brenna shrugged as Fen rushed past her into the manor, “I will check on them but do not expect me to wake chaos and havoc if there is no need to.”  
Loki rolled his eyes to the sky, gesturing toward the door, “Come, let us retreat inside where it is cooler and enjoy the peace while we still may.”

 

_Tap, tap, tap._  
When Eidra opened her eyes the sound ceased and she closed them again.   
_Tap, tap, tap._  
She glanced at Loki, silhouetted before the lantern on the writing desk, his head resting against one hand, the other poised, pen suspended above a sheet of parchment. He started to write, set the pen down again and started tapping with his index finger on the desk.  
She threw the covers off and rose from the bed. It would do no good to let him brood for the rest of the evening. They would all have to be up early.   
“Come join me beneath the covers,” she whispered in his ear, massaging his shoulders gently, feeling the tension like marble beneath her fingers, “Staying awake until dawn will not keep it from arriving.”  
He took her hand and drew it around to his chest, “How does my heart know me better than I know myself?”  
She tugged at his hand, “Our souls are one. When you are troubled, so am I. Turn down the lantern then to bed. I will hold you until sleep takes you.”  
He let himself be led to the bed where he settled between her arms, head upon her chest as she drifted off, listening to her heartbeat until the sky began to lighten with the dawn.

 

The hiss of airbrakes startled Simon awake as Beth chuckle beside him.  
“You were snoring pretty good there for a few minutes.”  
“Was I? Well how kind of you to wake me up,” He rubbed his face, looked out the window of the bus just as another bus pulled up beside them.  
“Hey I'm not your keeper, besides, you weren't the only one. Seems a lot of us had a rough night,” Beth rummaged through her carry on bag until she found her cell phone, leaned over to Simon and held the phone in the air pointed at them, “Smile!”  
“Seriously?” Simon groaned.  
“Hey we won't see Mother Earth for months, let's save the moment for prosperity..now smile.”  
Simon forced a thin lipped grin as Beth took the picture,“I'm going to title this one “On our way.”  
Simon picked his bag up from between his feet and proceeded down the aisle to the line forming before him as the bus door squealed open,. The acrid sweet aroma of the seashore permeated the air, greeting him as he stepped down to the pavement and emerged from between the buses, a steady breeze from the ocean tugging at his windbreaker.. In the distance stood the Fire Island Lighthouse. He smiled, a genuine grin this time, watching the rising sun illuminate the black and white tower.  
He had read countless books on the life of a light-keeper. Were he born in a different era, he could have been very happy working at one of these great sentinels. He would have reveled in the daily chores, the routine, polishing the lens, keeping the light lit, the house spotless. Mostly he would have enjoyed the solitude.  
“Isn't she a beauty?” Beth held out her phone, taking a picture of the lighthouse, “A pity we don't have time to walk out to it.”  
Simon gave her a sidelong glance, “That's my little ray of sunshine.”  
He flinched as Beth patted him on the back, “Just trying to keep you grounded.....,” she looked across the parking lot to a swatch of blacktop where people were starting to assemble, “I'm sorta scared. How about you?”  
Simon looked at the large group, then to Beth who was chewing her bottom lip, “Anxious I suppose. I wouldn't say scared,” He glanced again at the lighthouse.  
“Come on, they're getting the luggage out of the bus,” Beth poked him as she hurried off.   
Simon counted the rings on the light tower once more, feeling the peace of uniformity relax his body before he followed Beth's example, heading back to the bus to retrieve his suitcase.

 

Tony readjusted his tie for the thousandth time as Lily watched the people milling about the parking lot, talking to each other or on their phones, looking through their bags. She could feel the anticipation in the air, see it in their body language, hear it in their speech.  
“It's going to be a long day,” she sighed as a semi-truck made a wide turn into the parking lot.  
“Not for us. We only have to make one trip today. The agents and the techs will be the ones having all the fun,” Stark checked his phone once again, shoved it in his pocket.  
Lily had been on the verge of asking where Pepper was when he pulled up in his limousine at around five that morning. As usual, however, Stark was one step ahead of her.   
“Pepper didn't want to come down here today.”  
It was the only mention he made of his personal assistant. He seemed upset but the glimpse was fleeting, the cool exterior dropping into place before she could ask him if he was alright. It was strange that Pepper wouldn't in fact be going to Asgard with him, seeing as he would be gone for at least a couple weeks initially until all the equipment was unpacked, the solar grids were in place, wired in and the portals were ready to be assembled, then by his calculations he'd be in Asgard for at the very least a few months. She very highly doubted she could stand such a long absence away from her husband without going crazy but Stark was like no man she had ever met. Miss Potts was surely used to his extended vacations.  
A rotund man sporting a buzz cut and wearing a three piece suit stomped up to them, shoving his phone toward Tony, “Mister Stark, will we be able to get cell service there?”  
Stark tilted his head, paused just long enough for the man to wag the phone in the air, “Well?”  
“No sir, we don't expect cell service for at least another hundred years.”  
“There, Ma, ya see? Why can't you just believe me....?” The man turned and trudged back to the group, his conversation lost to distance.  
“Best and brightest, huh?” Lily scanned the crowd.  
“How about good at what they do? Besides, he's only a technician. There's my genius.”  
Lily followed Tony's finger to a short man with sandy blond hair. She guessed him to be in the area of thirty. He stood staring about at the people milling around him, a white knuckled grip on the handle of his luggage. She would bet her best dress that if she said boo to him, he'd pass out in a dead faint.  
“Simon Foster,” Tony tapped the tablet in his hand, “We wouldn't be here today if it weren't for him.”  
Lily stared at Tony, incredulous. Rarely, if ever, had she heard of Stark sharing his glory with any big projects he was involved in and this one was the biggest by far, “Really? How uncharacteristic of you.”  
Tony raised an eyebrow but didn't look up from the tablet, “How so?”  
“Giving credit to someone else beside yourself.”  
Tony grinned as he glanced up from the tablet, “Yeah I do stuff like that just to keep you guys on your toes. Can I have everyone's attention, please?!”  
The conversation slowed then stopped altogether as all eyes swung toward Tony.  
“It's about ten minutes to go time. I'm sure you've said your goodbyes to your loved ones, made certain you have everything off the buses, all your gear together because we're not turning this ride around for your favorite soap or your best suit. Questions before we leave?”  
A couple hands rose slowly. He pointed to a heavyset pretty young woman with dark hair, “Yes?”  
“I was wondering. Um, is it going to hurt?”  
Tony laughed, “Of course it is, why do you think we don't want to make a return trip right away..,” he paused as the woman's jaw dropped open and Lily fought the urge to cuff him upside the head.  
“Just kidding. No it doesn't hurt. It's a bit disorienting. You might feel a little sick to your stomach the first time but it happens so fast, you barely have time to register it.”   
The remaining hands that had been raised, slowly lowered.  
“That was it, that was the only question?” Tony shook his head, “Well then I gather you read your packets and paid attention to the trainers,” he nodded to Lily, “Are we ready?”  
“I was ready three hours ago,” she glanced up at the cloud streaked blue sky.  
“Okay, I want all members of group one right here in front of me.” Tony gestured in a circle as people began to move forward, “We are officially on our way.”

 

 

Beth closed her eyes at the last second. Simon kept his open and would be forever glad he did. He could only liken the experience to being wrapped in the most vivid rainbow imaginable. The colors were accompanied by a low pitched hum bringing to mind one of the giant turbines he'd stood near during a trip to a hydroelectric power station with his father but Tony had been right, the ride was over almost before it began and they were standing before a towering gate held open by a giant of a man dressed in armor fashioned from metal and thick leather looking for all the world as if he were ready for battle.  
“Thank you Heimdall.” Lily nodded to him.  
“Milady, the guards await to take you to the palace.”  
Simon shivered as he took in the sword the man leaned against, sure it might have topped him by a couple of inches at least. He was woefully out of place here. If he hadn't been concerned about disappointing Tony, he would have politely requested to return to Midgard with Lily but they were already moving forward over a walkway paved with brightly polished stones consisting of quartz, granite and mica. He jumped as a hand grip his forearm.  
“Oh my god! Look at this place!” Beth breathed, “It's gorgeous!”  
“Everything is so big.....so strange,” Simon muttered, “This is insane.”  
Beth shook him so that he almost let go of his carry on, “Insane? This is the trip of a lifetime! This is like an around-the-world-all-expenses-paid dream!”  
His heart was starting to race. He wanted to yell ahead at the people before him, wanted to order them into a line if only to have some semblance of order out of the chaos in his mind. All at once, he stopped walking as his legs refused to obey him. He had been in a traumatic car accident when he was a teenager, earning a hospital stay of two weeks. He could recall the seconds after the impact, the curious detachment from the scene, numbness of his arms and legs as his body went into shock. He felt the exact same way at this moment as the rest of the group streamed past him.  
“Foster?” came a voice to his right, soft, pleading.  
“Simon, come on, honey. It's going to be alright. Don't choke now.”  
With great effort, he turned to look at Beth's worried face.  
“We have to catch up with the rest of the group. You can do it. Here, hold my hand.”  
She tucked his arm beneath hers as they started forward again, “Geez, thought we lost you.”  
Upon reflex Simon squeezed her hand though he could form no words, his tongue felt like lead.  
They passed through another high arched gate into the city proper where people lined the cobblestone streets four deep, watching them as they passed, talking amongst themselves. Simon looked down at his feet, refusing to return the stares as they kept walking for what seemed like forever. making a turn down one street, up another, over a high arched bridge, through a public garden until they reached the main square, stopping at the front gates to the palace.  
Beth pushed up on tiptoes to see over the crowd, “Mister Stark is talking to a couple of big men. They must be guards. Oh it's awful to be so short!”  
“Mmm,” Simon grunted as with a muffled creak the gates started to swing open.  
Beth shook Simon's arm as they started forward, “Here we go!”


	12. 12

Eidra pulled Fen closer before her, keeping her hands firmly on his shoulders.  
“They are all old. Did they not bring any children?”  
“No,” Jane scanned the people filing into the Throne room, “No families were scheduled for this trip. At least not to my knowledge.”  
Brenna reached over to knuckle him atop his head, “They were smart, they left their little worms at home.”  
Fen swatted at her and missed as Eidra hissed, “Will you both be still?”  
Brenna stuck out her tongue at Fen who scowled in return, hunkering closer to Eidra.  
“Stark looks like he's aged ten years!” Jane exclaimed, “Good god.”  
The doors swung shut with a resounding thud as Thor stood up from the throne, starting down the stairs to greet the group. Loki swung his gaze to his left, catching Eidra's eyes and giving her a thin smile as he followed along behind his brother.

 

Simon had been guided to one side by Beth and as such was able to see Tony extend a hand toward a large man with a close cropped beard, his long blond hair arrayed like a lion's mane save for the long thin braid down his left shoulder.  
“It's Thor.” Beth whispered in his ear, “Now that is a beautiful man.”  
“If you like the type.” Simon retorted, pulling himself up taller, “Hush, they're speaking.”

“Citizens of Midgard, honored guests, friends!” Thor boomed, “I welcome you to the realm, the city of Asgard.”  
Tony took Thor's hand, shaking it briskly, “It's a pleasure to be here, truly. We are honored, moved by this opportunity to unite our realms in the name of commerce and peace. I hope we will learn from one another and grow in kind.”  
Loki smiled broadly as Tony moved next to stand before him his hand extended.  
”Were I unaware, Stark, I would have thought you were looking for a place on the High Council,” Loki muttered.  
“And I am thrilled to see you again as well,” Tony pumped his hand in return, “How's that sainted wife of yours? The children?”   
Loki's smile slipped a little, “All are well. Odin hope they remain as such.”  
Thor raised his arms in the air as Loki let go of Tony's hand, “Follow us into the Great Hall. We have prepared for your arrival an array of Asgardian delicacies to properly welcome you into our culture. First we shall eat, then we will discuss business.”

 

Simon was tired, more than a little hungry though he doubted he could stomach whatever foreign food they were going to present to him. His nerves were frayed raw.  
“I can't wait to see what they eat.” Beth whispered.  
“And what if they serve you some strange blue tentacled monster in sauce? Or jellied....brains in cut glass bowls? What then?” Simon stared at the floor, trying to avoid the stares of the crowd.  
“Nonsense,” came a voice behind them, “They enjoy a good steak as well as you do.”  
Simon looked over his shoulder where Tony stood, arms crossed, a silly grin on his face, dark shades perched on his nose so that Simon couldn't judge whether he was serious or not.  
“Steak?” Beth tilted her head, “Really?”  
Tony nodded, “You seem disappointed. Were you hoping for some fantastic oddity?”  
She shrugged, “I didn't know what to expect, to be honest.”  
“Well you're in for a big surprise...Simon, come with me.”  
Tony guided Simon forward through the throng moving into an immense room dominated by a long table laden with food scanning the crowd until he found who he was looking for. A few steps further and they halted beside Thor.   
“Your Majesty, I'd like to introduce you to the reason we made it this far. This is Simon Foster.”  
Thor bowed, extending his hand. Simon reached out and shook it, his body on automatic pilot.  
I am pleased to meet you Master Foster. What think you of our fair city so far?”  
“It's lovely,” Simon croaked unable to shake the feeling of tension in the air.  
“Simon Foster!”   
He turned to stare at the people around him, trying to focus on the owner of the voice when all at once his hand was taken in a sturdy grip. He followed the hand upward until he came to a face he knew quite well.  
“Colin? What in God's name...?”  
“You two know each other?” Tony glanced back and forth between them.  
“I should say so!” Colin cried, still shaking Simon's hand, “We used to run about together summers at the seashore. His aunt owned a cottage just down the lane from my family's summer place in Blackpool. How is yer Aunt Mary now?”  
Simon swallowed hard, his mouth felt dry as cotton, “She's passed on, sorry to say. Ah, what are you doing...,” he looked about the Great Hall, “...here of all places?”  
Colin let Simon's hand go, “I'm employed as an agent and a liaison to his royal Highness and adviser to the King, Loki. Mister Stark, here, is my boss.”  
Tony gave a small nod.  
“What a coincidence....however did you...?.”  
Simon heard a heavy sigh from the man who had stood beside the King as he delivered the greeting, “May we dispense with the pleasantries for now and fall to? This threatens to be a monstrously long day.”  
“My brother is right, please follow me.” Thor gestured toward the table.  
“Gods save me,” Loki nudged Thor, “Where are the women?”  
“I do not know. They are likely at the rear of the crowd,” Thor shrugged, “they were still on the steps when we left the throne room. They will be along soon.”  
Loki cast a furtive glance about the bustling hall wishing only to be with Eidra at that moment, not playing host to foreigners.  
“Come along, Loki,” Thor called to him.  
“By all means,” he muttered, staring hard at the visitors following Thor in a wavering line along the table, “We cannot finish lest we begin.”

 

Eidra gazed about at the crowd, keeping a hand on Fen's shoulder though he continually shrugged out from beneath her grasp.  
“Mama, please may I join Papa and my uncle?”  
“They are very busy with their guests, you will stay with us for the time being.”  
She felt a tap at her shoulder as Brenna whispered in her ear, “Mama, let me walk about with him. If he gets out of line, I shall hang him over the balcony by his feet.”  
Eidra looked at Jane then to Brenna, “I doubt he will behave with you any better. This is a rather large gathering,” Eidra squeezed Fen's shoulders, Fen, why can you not stay with us?”  
Brenna caught Fen's desperate mien. Giving him a wink, Brenna leaned closer to Eidra, “Because he is twelve seasons old and still being led about by his mother.”  
Ever since Fen's fight with the boy, Alger, Eidra had been keeping a tight rein on him. Out of concern or as punishment, Brenna was unsure but the boy had to have room to breathe, he was very nearly a man.  
“I promise we will cause no trouble.” Brenna slowly prised Fen from her grip, “We want to look around.”  
“Keep out from underfoot, mind you!” Eidra called to them before they started to slip into the crowd.  
Brenna gave a wave as the people swallowed them from view.

 

“Thank you, Bren.”   
Brenna gazed down the length of the food laden table to see the Midgardian people staring at different dishes, picking a bit at others, noticing the surprise on their faces as the Aesir and other officials danced about them to fill their platters.  
“You owe me one.” She handed him a plate from the stacks in the middle of the table, “Now do not prove me wrong.”  
“I will not. I swear,” he picked up a bunch of grapes from one of the bowls, “May we speak to the visitors? Papa did not say we could not speak to them.”  
“I suppose but then what is there to talk of? You have been to Midgard. Nothing should be new to you.”  
Fen stuffed the end of a rolled lingonberry pancake in his mouth, “Mmmf....I know but it has been an age since then and they are now here in my realm. I wish to know what they think of Asgard.”  
Fen eyed the table left and right, spying his favorite smoked eel, a young woman about to lift a piece from the warming platter.  
He watched her sniff a forkful, study it, edging along until he was beside her,   
“It is eel,” Fen piped up and all at once found himself catching her plate in mid-air with his free hand.  
“Shit!” She cried, covering her mouth, “Excuse my language.”  
He handed the plate back to her, furtively wiping his hand on the edge of his tunic, “No harm done, Milady.”  
“Thank you so much,” She smiled, “I'm so sorry. New situations make me jumpy.”   
He returned the smile with a bow, “My name is Fen.”  
She set her fork on her plate and extended her hand to him, “Beth Chapel. Pleased to meet you.”  
“Have you ever had eel?”  
She forked the piece of fish into her mouth, smacking her lips, “Yeah, my grandparents are from Louisiana. We'd visit them each summer when my sister and I were kids. They'd fix Creole eel,” She paused, “This is a bit bland by comparison...but still good. A clear sweet taste to the flesh. The cooks could really dress it up nicely.”  
“Louisiana is one of those places you call a state is it not?” Fen helped himself to a hunk of eel placing it on his plate.  
“Right, how do you know about the states?”  
“Because of his big sister,” Brenna added, poking Fen in the ribs, “I thought I had lost you in the crowd. Forget the balcony, I would have hung you from the highest tree.” Brenna nodded to Beth, “Is he pestering you. I could find someplace to hang him now?”  
“No, no not at all. He's being very polite. I have to say, I'm a little surprised...”  
Brenna poked him again eliciting a yelp, “Surprised, because he is polite?”  
“At the food.” Beth scanned the table, “I guess I expected something more...”  
“Strange,” Brenna wrinkled her nose at the eel, “I found the food on Midgard exceeding odd. I had to eat what your people call organic when first I arrived or I would get sick.”  
Beth's eyes widened, “You've been to Earth?”  
“Indeed. I attended school there for a time. I shall start college next year much to my father's chagrin.”  
The cutlery on Brenna's plate rattled as she was jostled by the throng milling about the table, “It is become crowded, I am going to retreat to the balcony area,” She started to move away, motioning to Fen to follow her then stopped and turned, “You may join us if you like...”  
“I would love to, thank you so much!” Beth could hardly contain her excitement. She followed Fen and his sister, resisting the urge to reach out and grab the tail of Fen's shirt so they wouldn't be separated until at last they found a spot and sat down on the marble steps leading up through high arches to the long balcony overlooking the city.  
“My name is Brenna, by the way.” Brenna tore her roll in half, dipping it in the juices oozing from her slices of roast beef.  
“Elizabeth Chapel, but please call me Beth.”  
“What do you think of Asgard, Beth?” Fen leaned forward, looking at her over Brenna's lap.  
“Seeing as I've only been here about an hour and am now sitting in a palace eating like royalty, I'd say first impressions are off to a good start,” Beth giggled.  
\ “What do you do on Midgard?” Brenna settled back against a tall stone pillar. She could see her father and her uncle talking with Mister Stark and a short nervous looking man who seemed as if he was trying to keep the smile from sliding off his face.  
“I'm a graduate student in the field of anthropology, more precisely, the study of foodways and the impact on the culture of a people, or at least that's what I'll be studying here. I'll be writing my thesis on what I learn during my stay here on Asgard.”  
Fen made a face, “I do not ken...”  
“Ken?” Beth looked at Brenna.  
“It means understand. It is an old word.” Brenna glanced up at the crowd, saw her mother talking to her father.  
“Oh, oh, I think I've seen it before...yeah. Old English, Gaelic? Norse......ohhhh.”  
Brenna laughed, “Midgardians think us this vast mysterious race of people who have never seen Midgard, know nothing about your ways when in actuality we are more alike than you suspect save a superior genetic material and our desire to remain grounded in the ancient. Do not tell my father I said so. He wishes to believe we are as different as night and day. Please do not take offense. It is simply an opinion, ”  
“Seems a bit small minded..” As soon as she'd said the words, she wanted to take them all back, rewind time.  
 _“DAMNIT, BETH! ARE YOU EVER GOING TO THINK BEFORE YOU OPEN YOUR FAT MOUTH?”_  
But Brenna pointed a fork at her, “And indeed he can be though few would say so to his face, being as he is a prince of Asgard.”  
Beth felt as if she was going to lose everything she'd eaten in the last half hour, could feel her face getting warm, “Oh god, I am so sorry. Sometimes I speak before I think of what I'm saying.”  
Brenna shook her head, “Do not apologize. Honesty is a noble quality. Too many people say what they believe people wish to hear while keeping their true thoughts hidden.”  
“I know, my uncle was a politician,” Beth quipped though Brenna's resulting laugh was unexpected.  
“You got that?”  
Brenna put a hand to her mouth, choking down her food, “Yes, court life is a never ending swirl of intrigues and gossip. I daresay your Midgardian politicians would have trouble keeping up.”  
“I still do not ken..,” Fen muttered.  
“Okay people!” a shout was heard over the crowd and they looked to see Tony Stark with a hand in the air as he stood at the head of the long table.  
“Listen up, now comes the hard part. Team leaders, myself included, have a list of people that are going to be assigned to them. I'm going to start. When you hear your name called, assemble here behind me. After I finish, the next team leader will assemble the people on his list and so on until the entire group has been separated into their respective teams. I will then tell you where you're going to be for the duration of your stay here on Asgard” Tony paused, “Everyone on the same page?”  
There was a murmur of assent in the room as Beth stood up, “Please excuse me. It was wonderful talking to you.”   
She made her way to the table, found an empty spot and set down her plate, listening to the names as they were called, hoping she hadn't sounded too wooden when she'd taken her leave of Fen and Brenna.  
“Simon Foster....”  
Beth saw Simon look down at the floor, seeming embarrassed to have his name read aloud.  
“Thomas Link....”  
“Arianna Pagent...”  
One by one, they moved to stand behind Tony.  
“Elizabeth Chapel...”  
Beth hurried along the table until she reached Simon, edging beside him and giving him a one armed hug.  
“Yes, what a joyous reunion,” Simon grunted, “Welcome, welcome.”  
“Oh don't be so negative,” Beth gave him another squeeze, “Enjoy the adventure.”  
They listened to Tony, watching the group grow about him until he turned to them, “Alright if you will follow me out into the corridor, I will tell you where you're going to rest your head each night,” He raised his tablet in the air and started through the crowd.  
As they reached the doors at the far end of the room, Beth heard another round of names begin, straining to hear but Tony was speaking again.  
“I'm going to hand folders to you. They will contain information about the families you're going to stay with, if any, and the location clearly marked on a topographic map. Some of you will be staying at the longhouse barracks of course, as per your assignments. I cannot stress the importance of obeying the rules and regulations you've been studying. The last thing you want to be responsible for is an inter-dimensional incident.”  
There were a few snickers among the group and Tony flashed a brief smile before he turned serious again, passing out the folders from the crook of his arm, “...but don't forget, you're representing not just a city, a town, a country. You're representing Earth and if you carry nothing else away from this, in the very least, let's let Asgard know we too can conduct ourselves with respect and honor.”  
Beth took the folder Tony handed to her, opening it as he moved on, looking up, her mouth open to speak but he was already three people away and moving fast.  
“I've been assigned to Loki's household,” She nudged Simon as she read further down the page hooked into the binder rings, “No way!”  
“Must you shout?” Simon put a finger to his lips, “What's wrong?”  
She leaned over and opened the folder, shoving it under his nose, “Unless I was mistaken, I was sitting talking with two of his children a few minutes ago.”  
“I noticed that,” Came a voice before her and she started backward as Tony put a finger on the page she'd opened to, “Brenna, she's a good kid, smart too..smarter than her dad for all of me. Fen too. His youngest kids are real cuties, in fact, Destructo raised up a pretty good family, go figure. You'll do fine.”  
Before she could respond, he was off again.  
“God I'm so embarrassed,” She mumbled.  
“I wonder why,” Simon opened his folder though he already knew where he was going to be. Beth peered over his arm.  
“You'll be in the longhouses...I'll have to visit you. Do you think we'll be allowed to travel around the kingdom?”  
Simon closed the folder, “Of course we will. In fact I believe they'll hand us a map, set us up on a horse, slap the rump and say, “Off with you.”  
Beth frowned, “Well now you're just being mean.”  
Simon ran his fingers through his hair with a heavy sigh, “Okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry....but honestly, I mean you aren't a little shaken over this. Not at all?”  
Tony had finished handing out the folders and was now on his way back to them.  
“I'm a little nervous, it being a new situation and all but I told you, for me, this is an adventure. You on the other hand, you miss your solitary life, your quiet house. Well life is meant to be lived, enjoyed...why don't you try it.”  
Tony tapped her on the shoulder while he turned to the others, “Link, come with me. The rest of you wait here. I have to bring Miss Chapel and Mister Link to their respective assignments. When I come back, we're going to return to the bridge and start bringing the equipment through.”   
There were groans from the group as Tony started to lead them away.  
“Told you we were going to have fun today,” he called over his shoulder.  
Beth gave Simon a small wave as they re-entered the Great Hall. To her relief, he returned the wave with a half smile. She took a deep breath then, hurrying after Mister Stark.


	13. 13

The Great Hall was beginning to empty out. Teams were following their respective leaders, guided by guards, members of the Council. Stark, however, was heading, like a salmon fighting an upstream current, toward where Colin stood, talking to Loki and Velos. Close behind Stark was a young heavyset woman, eyes wide, face a mask of panic.  
Loki grimaced as Stark waved to him, “Whatever does he want now?”  
Colin tilted his head to Velos as Loki stepped forward to greet Stark, “Why do I get the feeling we're going to hear a bit of hollering?”  
“You may be privy to it,” Velos chuckled, “I, myself, am headed for home very soon. I miss my little honey bee...”  
“No!”  
They both turned to stare at Loki, his arms crossed before him, muscles in his jaw quivering while the woman who had accompanied Stark, stood stock still, her face white as milk.  
Colin tapped Velos on the shoulder, “Excuse me, I'll be right back.”  
“It isn't up for debate...” Stark gazed about the room, “This is her assignment. You don't see anybody else complaining do you?”  
“Why am I to be saddled with yet another guest?” Loki threw his hands in the air, “You have the entire realm from which to choose.”  
“Because you have room. Because we picked your name out of a hat, whatever, take your pick, you're only going believe what you want...”

 

Eidra was standing at the head of the long banquet table, talking to a tall thin young man dressed in long red robes. Colin sidled up to her, reluctant to disturb their conversation.  
“Milady?”  
Eidra spun about, startled, “Oh my, Master Denehy. I thought you were visiting with my husband.”  
“I was b...”  
“Do forgive my manners,” Eidra interjected, gesturing to the tall man who was eying Colin with a distasteful look, “Please allow me to introduce you to Argas, he is the newest member of the High Council.”  
Colin bowed deeply, “A pleasure, truly but, ah, Milady? Could I speak with you a moment?”  
Eidra tilted her head, “What is it? Are we ready to depart?”  
“Not exactly, no. There's an incident might garner yer attention however....” Colin jerked a thumb behind him, bending as close as he dared to whisper, “Yer husband.”  
Without hesitation, Eidra curtseyed to Argas, “Please excuse me. I must see to an urgent matter.”

 

Beth had moved from embarrassment to indignation very quickly but she held her tongue as Stark argued back and forth with Loki.  
“I said nothing when you graced me with Master Denehy. I have accepted him into my home...”  
“And has he caused any trouble?” Stark countered.  
“That is beside the point. He is but one...ahhh!”  
Eidra let loose the fleshy part of Loki's arm, satisfied the pinch had done its work. She moved to stand in front of him, offering her hand to Stark who took it up in a light brush against his lips.  
“The cavalry is here in the form of my favorite saint. I was hoping you hadn't skipped out early. You look divine. Where is the rest of your brood?”  
“The youngest ones are home with Ingrid and Helgi. Brenna and Fen are about somewhere. Now how may we help you, Master Stark?” Eidra smiled graciously, her hands clasped at her waist, glancing at the woman behind Stark who was now staring at the ground, mumbling silently to herself, “Who do you have here with you?” She leaned to the side a bit, trying to catch the woman's attention.  
“This is your new house guest. Elizabeth Chapel...Beth?”  
Beth's head snapped up as Tony continued, “Beth is an anthropology major in her final year at college. She's writing her thesis on Asgardian foodways so it'll be a twofold assignment. She'll use the material she gathers for her final paper and the project will benefit from the study. We'll likely publish the paper in a scientific journal as well.”  
“Really?” Beth cried.  
“Well as long as we get the okay for you to join Destructo's household.”  
Eidra shook her head, “Honestly Tony, you know he hates...”  
Before Eidra could finish her her admonition, Loki was elbowing his way through the crowd on his way toward the Hall doors.  
“...it when you tease him so. Oh dear,” Eidra sighed.  
“Eidra,” Tony moved closer when he was sure Loki was out of range, taking Eidra's hand again, patting it, “This is Beth's assignment. She's going to shadow your house cook..learn what food you eat, how to prepare it, you know technical stuff that I let my chefs do.”  
“She's going to shadow Gretten?” Eidra giggled, “And you were worried about my husband?”  
“Is that a bad thing?” Beth asked in a voice tremulous with anxiety.  
Eidra gave a broad grin, “Not at all, dear. Gretten can be quite fractious, however, he means no ill will. In fact he has a large heart, you just have to find it,”  
“So that's the deal. It's either a place in your household or we send her back to Earth.”  
Beth let out a squeak, covering her mouth as Tony looked at her.  
With a nod, Eidra put her arm out to Beth, “Tony I will take her from here. Do not trouble yourself any further. Miss Chapel, let us fetch your trunk and find my children. We can expect my husband to be at the wagon, sulking.”

Loki sat on the bench seat, boots up on the front board, elbows on his knees, unmoving. When Colin felt the wagon sag backwards, he jumped down from the seat to the cobblestones, hastening to the rear step of the wagon where Brenna was holding out her hand to Beth.  
“Here now, let me help,” Colin climbed into the bed beside Brenna and took Beth's hand, hauling her upward to stand, wobbly, beside Brenna.  
“ Thank you, Colin,” Eidra called loudly, her gaze at the back of Loki's head as she lifted Beth's suitcase up to Fen, “Make yourself comfortable, Miss Chapel, we have a bit of a ride.”  
Colin jumped back to the ground, following Eidra to the front of the wagon where he helped her step up into the front seat, summarily ignoring Loki's glare. At last he hopped up to sit on the other side of Eidra who was adjusting her dress, still glowering at her husband.  
Loki slapped the reins and the wagon lurched forward, causing Colin to grab at the iron armrest.  
“Did you take your leave of your mother?” Eidra muttered  
Loki said nothing, keeping his eyes forward, his jaw hard set.  
“Did you hear me?”  
“Yes.”  
“Yes you took your leave or yes you heard me?”  
Silence again.  
Eidra seethed for all of an instant then twisted in the seat to face the back of the wagon. The most effective way to rankle Loki was to ignore him and so she did.  
“Tell me, Miss Chapel, from whence you came.”  
Loki turned his head to look at Eidra.  
“Oh please, call me Beth, Miss..um...”  
“Eidra will do nicely, thank you,” She smiled down at Beth as Loki shifted in the seat, his irritation becoming more apparent.  
“Okay...Eidra...I come from a town called Keene in New Hampshire.”  
“I have been there!” Brenna exclaimed, “My senior year at school. We had a big class trip to the pumpkin festival. It was lovely!”  
Beth clapped her hands excitedly, “Oh it's so much fun isn't it? My sister and I used to help at the carving tables each year when we were in high school. Halloween is my favorite holiday.”  
“I should like to visit Midgard during this Halloween one day,” Eidra murmured, a faraway look in her eyes.  
“You've heard about it?” Beth looked to Brenna then back to Eidra.  
“I have. It holds a special meaning for me as well.”  
Loki grunted, hunching forward over the reins as she resumed her questions.  
“How old are you, dear?”  
“Twenty-five.”  
“Ha!” Loki spat.  
Eidra kept herself from elbowing him in his side only by sheer force of will.  
“...nearly twenty-six,” Beth finished in a small voice.  
“How did you come to be chosen for such an illustrious assignment, if you don't mind me askin'?” Colin looked over his shoulder at Beth.  
“I guess because I'm at the top of my class in college. My professor suggested I apply to the program and I was accepted.”  
Colin twisted about, “Your professor? What's his name?”  
“Abraham Windsor, professor at Keene State College. You know him?”  
“Ah no, I confess I've not been to New Hampshire,” He smiled, making a mental note of the professor's name. The program had not been common knowledge so it only stood to reason that the professor had some inside information. Best to plug any holes. He would include the name with his next report.  
“Mister Denehy? Where are you from?”  
“Ireland.”  
“Oh I got that,” Beth giggled, “Maybe I should put it another way. Are you here for research like me?”  
Colin raised an eyebrow, spying Eidra's half smile, “Ah no, let's say I'm a liaison between the Midgardians and the Asgardians.”  
When Colin turned back around, Loki was staring at him but rather than being intimidating, it only served to irritate him. He gave Loki a wide smile until Loki returned his gaze to the road ahead, his mouth set in a permanent scowl.  
Colin was tempted to call him out until Eidra tapped him on the arm and he fell silent, listening to the conversation at the back of the wagon. For the rest of the ride home, they summarily ignored their churlish driver.

 

After helping Eidra down to the ground as the others piled out of the wagon bed, Loki hauled himself back up into the seat.  
Eidra peered up at him, “Come inside. Let the stable boy fetch the wagon.”  
Loki said nothing, merely slapped the reins and turned the horses toward the path to the barn.  
Eidra clenched her hands into fists as an arm wrapped about her shoulder.  
“Leave him be, Mama..,” Brenna hugged her, “Boys will throw their tantrums.”  
“At the worst of times,” Eidra trudged up the front stairs before Brenna through the open front door.

 

Loki stroked Lightning's neck as the horse stuffed his nose into the water trough, pawing the ground with a hoof.  
“Why must I give up the peace of my happy home? I allowed this venture might be advantageous for Asgard thus they saddle me with not one but two outlanders. I should not wonder if it was a form of punishment.”  
Lightning raised his head with a snort, spraying water droplets into a fine mist on the warm summer evening air.  
“And I should welcome them with open arms?”  
Loki grabbed the pitchfork leaning against the barn wall, tossed a couple forkfuls of hay into Lightning's stall, then Agathon's, finally moving to Blackberry.  
“Were it that life was so easy as it is for the three of you. Having nothing at all to do save bear our loads, eat, sleep and laze about,” he leaned against the stall gate, watching Blackberry, “There was a time we had few worries before all this,” Loki waved his hand to the manor house wavering in the heat of midday, “Gods I do so miss our little cottage in Rialo.”  
“Milord?” a voice drifted out of the shadows and Loki turned to see Eldred standing there with a half plaited length of rope in his hand. He'd grown from a small boy to a young man in short order, seeming to sprout up overnight, “Were you speaking to me?”  
Loki stared at the stable boy, “No....no..I was thinking aloud.”  
Eldred bowed his head, “Forgive me. I should have made my presence known. I confess I had dozed a bit,” he held up the rope, “I am nearly finished.”  
Loki fingered the length, felt the tight braid, “Well done. Take your leave. I shall see the horses are settled for the evening.”  
Eldred bowed low, “Thank you, Milord.”  
He watched the young man hang the unfinished rope over a peg on the stable wall and sighed, he could only dally so long outside before Eidra would send someone looking for him. Only half the day was yet gone. He shook each stall gate as he walked past, making sure they were secure, stood outside the stable for a time, looking at the manor house in the distance. He was about to start down the path when a shout came to him on the breeze and he broke into a trot.

 

Eidra was glad she'd left Beth in the sitting room with Colin as Gretten banged another pot on the work table.  
“This is an outrage! Another Asgardian, perhaps, an Alfari, only under protest..”  
When Eidra scowled at him, he gave her a deep bow, “Begging your pardon, Milady...I meant a dokkalfari...at least our temperaments would match, but a Midgardian? I have a good mind to resign my position....”  
“Resignation accepted.”  
Gretten whirled about to face Loki who had quietly entered the kitchen through the rear outer door.  
“I..I did...not say I wished to do so...” Gretten sputtered, “I meant the situation would warrant ...”  
“I heard what you said,” Loki's gaze slid to Eidra and he felt a sudden stirring, a warmth which settled in his loins. He smiled gamely, relieved when she returned the gesture, “And I would most certainly pack my bags were I forced to share a kitchen with a Midgardian, a female at that..”  
“You would?” Gretten canted his head to the side.  
Eidra waited, silent, smiling. She had listened countless times through their marriage as Loki spoke to the High Council, relating to her each evening how he had advised Thor upon the problems of the day. She had watched him smooth relations between visiting dignitaries then arrive home to diffuse an argument between Brenna and Fen. Ever eloquent, he truly was possessed of a silver tongue.  
“Of course,” Loki continued, “Were I a cook, I could not abide the Midgardians learning the secrets of Asgardian cooking, not that they would have such a capacity in the first place..”  
Gretten stroked his whiskers, “They are a simple lot. It would be amusing to see all they did not know...”  
“The woman in the sitting room is come to us from a Midgardian college much like the place Brenna will be attending. She is to write a parchment upon her experiences, what we eat, how we prepare our food,” Loki put a hand to his chest, wrinkled his nose, “Ah my apologies...how could you be expected to represent the whole of Asgardian food ways? It would be a great undertaking,”he pulled the bench away from the work table and sat down, “No, you are right, I shall find another family to take her.”  
“Indeed..,” Gretten nodded and Eidra wondered if Loki had failed until he stood up, walked to the kitchen doorway and called into the sitting room, “Miss Chapel would you come here a moment?”  
“There is no need for me to meet this woman, Milord. We have made our decision have we not?” Gretten groaned.  
Beth poked her head into the kitchen, creeping forward to hover at Eidra's side.  
“Miss Chapel...” Loki gestured to Gretten, “This is our cook,”  
Eidra had to pinch her thigh to keep from laughing aloud, Gretten was scarlet. He nodded at Beth, “Gretten, Milady.”  
“Sadly he refuses to share his kitchen..”  
“Gretten!” Came an exclamation from the doorway where Brenna was now standing, “How can you be so inhospitable to this pleasant young lady?”  
Gretten reddened further until Eidra was sure he was going to spontaneously burst into flames, “I was....am...worried about being kept from my work...having to...explain every little thing I am doing...I cannot be nursemaid while I …..I am trying to prepare a meal..”  
Beth held up her hand, low at first then a bit higher, “I've been around kitchens all my life...well obviously,” she patted her round stomach, “..but I cook all the time at home, and I bake. I know how a chef values his space...and how he guards his best kept secrets. I wouldn't write about anything you asked me not to. I'm not an agent, I'm just a student trying to graduate with honors, though if I had to return to Earth and fail miserably, I would say the experience was already worth it.”  
Gretten scanned the kitchen, looking anywhere but at Beth as Loki waved a hand toward the doorway, “Well it is settled. I will bring you to the palace in the morning and we will have you returned to Midgard.”  
Loki began to herd Beth out of the room, counting to himself soundlessly. On two, Gretten cleared his throat.  
“Six moons. Only six moons then I might have peace again?”  
Loki paused, turning to Gretten, “Pardon me?”  
Gretten was staring at him, a stern look upon his face “She will only be here for half a season?”  
Loki put a hand on Gretten's shoulder, “No. Do not trouble yourself. It is settled. She will return to Midgard...”  
Gretten frowned, “Let her stay. I should like to teach a Midgardian the proper way to roast a pig or make a good stew.” a grin crept to his lips, “I cannot wait to see her face when I skin a rabbit. Vapid females. She will likely fall down in a faint.”  
Loki raised an eyebrow, “Are you sure of this? I need no prodding to rid my household of another Midgardian.”  
Around the corner of the doorway, Loki heard Brenna whisper, “Papa!”  
“I am certain. Make sure she knows I am an early riser. If she wishes to learn, she will be up with the dawn.”  
“Hey,” Beth cried, **“SHE'S** right here and she gets up early in the morning too. If **HE'S** ready to teach, she'll be ready to learn.”  
At a grunt from Gretten, Loki rolled his eyes, “Very well, then. I will have Vesta show her to her room.”  
As he walked through the dining room into the sitting room with Beth at his heels, Brenna caught up with them, winking at Beth as she tugged at the sleeve of his tunic, “Papa, where were you when I was struggling with debate class at school?”  
“Here where you should have been,” he grumbled though she laughed at his retort, “Make yourself useful, child. I do not see Vesta about. Take Beth and show her to one of the guest rooms.”  
They had reached the bottom of the stairway where Beth had left her suitcase and bags when they entered the manor. Brenna grabbed the suitcase and pointed with a tilt of her head up the stairs, “Follow me.”  
Beth, however, turned to Loki who was heading back into the sitting room.  
“Thank you...um, Milord.”  
Loki looked back at her as his steps slowed, “I did nothing except show him the error of his judgment. It shall be up to you to show me that I was right.”


	14. 14

Though she tried, Eidra lost the battle to stay awake until Loki came to bed. It had been a particularly long day after all. The evening meal had been a tense affair. The twins had been fussy, Brynn in particular. He'd had no appetite. Eidra had checked his forehead for a fever, finding none. Still he'd lain his head on his arms, pushing his plate away. She suspected Beth's arrival was partly the cause. Of all her brood, Brynn disliked change the most and he would act out at the least alteration in routine. Beth had been mostly silent the entire meal, flinching each time Gretten appeared over her shoulder to serve. Vesta had spilled a bit of soup on herself as she'd brought the pot to the table nearly spilling it in her surprise. Helgi had fallen asleep in the middle of the main course. By the time Eidra stood up to excuse herself, she was sporting a headache. Loki had disappeared outside with Colin after the evening meal, Silas and Ingrid had repaired to their newly built cottage a short way up the road from the manor. Helgi, Fen and Brenna were playing dice in the sitting room. Eidra had checked on their new guest, Beth, making sure she was comfortable then she'd settled Cait and the twins for the night.  
At last, she'd retired to the bedchamber to sit in the rocking chair by the fireplace, knitting by the light of the lantern on her small side table as she pondered on the day's events  
She'd set in the rocking chair by the bed, knitting by the last rays of the sun, finally lighting the lantern as she pondered on the day's events, the pain behind her eyes finally causing her to lean her head back in the rocking chair and fall into a light doze.

 

A soft whimper followed by a watery cough opened her eyes. She sat forward in the chair just as Loki walked into the bedchamber with Brynn, his wheezing audible from across the room., his arms wrapped about Loki's neck.  
“I was passing his bedchamber and heard him coughing,” Loki sat on the bed with Brynn in his lap, rubbing the boy's back as he gave another thick bark.  
“I am so sorry. I fell asleep,” Eidra set her knitting on the table and stood up, hurrying to the bedside where she sat down to stroke Brynn's hair.  
“Do not apologize for you bear the burden of being a wife, mother and lady of the house. I grow tired simply watching you at times. I do not know how you persevere,” He closed his eyes as her fingers brush the hair at his temple.  
“I persevere because I am always uplifted by you, my love.” Eidra whispered, “Without your strength, I would be lost.”  
“Mama..” Brynn whined, twisting about to crawl onto her lap.   
“Hush my brave boy,” she hugged him to her, “..slow your breathing, it will help.”  
They sat quiet for a moment until she felt Loki's hand at her back, “There is nothing left of the Midgardian potion you were giving him?”  
Eidra could not hide her surprise as she stared at him, “No, not for nearly a season now.”  
Loki put a hand on Brynn's leg, “I shall speak with Stark about procuring another supply.”  
“Truly?”  
“Does it help him?”  
“Immensely.”  
“Then I shall make it so.”  
Eidra stood from the bed, hefting Brynn onto her hip, “I am going to have Gretten brew some marshmallow root tea. It usually gives him some relief.”  
“I shall take him downstairs,” Loki rose along with her but Eidra shook her head, “I will be but a short while. Get yourself to bed,” when he started to protest, she put her palm to his chest, “I insist.”  
At the bedchamber doorway, she paused, watching him loosen the laces of his breeches.  
“There is something I have wondered at the whole of our union.”  
Loki drew his tunic over his head, “Pray tell me what that thing be.”..  
“You have shown the greatest tenderness with our dearest friends, your family...”  
He smiled, draped the tunic over the back of the rocking chair, “If I have, it is you taught me so..”  
“.....And yet I am still made to hear your name spoken with fear because you hold from the people your true self. You maintain such a hard facade, a haughty mien. It breaks my heart.”  
Loki walked up to her, cupping her face in his hands, “My true self lies with you. Were I to allow the court some measure of the same, they would perceive it as weakness.”  
“Compassion is not weakness, quite the opposite. When you made Gretten see Miss Chapel in a different light....did you not do so out of compassion..”  
“I did so for the sake of a return to peace, go tend to Brynn, O wise one.” Loki shuttered her words with his lips upon hers, felt her smile before she broke the kiss and carried the boy out into the hall.  
He shut the door, listening to her footsteps, thought of following her down to the kitchen, feeling a particular need to be near her. Instead he changed into his robes and lay down to wait.

 

Colin lifted the sign language book out of the box. It had been laid on the top, the last thing packed. Something had been stuck between the pages. He held the book open over his bed and a small manila packet dropped onto the coverlet. Inside was a folded letter and a micro disc wrapped in plastic. Colin opened the letter and began to read.

_“Agent Denehy,_

_I have enclosed this book on disc. As I know you have not suddenly become deaf, I can only surmise you asked me to procure it for another reason. I do not presume to know why, nor do I want to know. After all, what I don't know, I can't tell. You might want to use your tablet's cipher program to translate the book into Asgardian. It will make things much easier. By providing you with this book, I do not in any way sanction your actions. I hope we are clear on this. Good luck with your project._

_Lily”_

He folded the letter with a smirk, tore open the plastic cover on the disc, slid it into the side of his tablet, hearing the disc whir to life.

 

Ingrid had already been aware someone was coming. As she helped Astrid into her dress, she caught sight of Edie turning toward the bedchamber door, watching. The child would often know when a horse was coming down the drive before it was heard or when a thunderstorm was approaching. Though she was deaf, her other senses more than made up for her shortcoming not the least of them being her sense of touch. It was as if she could feel the minutest vibrations around her well before anyone else however when Cait cried, “Brynn! Put on your breeches!” Ingrid's attention became focused elsewhere until she heard the rap on the door.  
“Enter.”  
As Colin stepped into the room, Edie was immediately before him.  
Ingrid tapped her foot on the floor and when Edie turned around, she gestured for the toddler to come stand at her side.  
Ingrid picked up the nightgowns the children had piled on the floor while Colin grinned to himself, _“no matter where you go, kids will be kids.”_  
“Do you need something, Master Denehy?”  
Colin brought the tablet from behind his back, “Ah, no. Do you recall when I first arrived, I told you I could get a book 'twould show you how to sign to Edie?”  
“Yes?”  
Ingrid took a step forward and Colin held out the tablet , “This is a spare pad. It's me old one but it'd do fine seeing it would be used just for teaching.”  
She set the nightclothes on one of the beds and not without hesitation, her hands trembling, took the tablet from his grasp, dropping heavily to the mattress. He had opened the book to the first page.  
“It is written in Asgardian...” when she looked up at him, there were tears in her eyes.  
“It wasn't when it arrived,” Colin ran a hand through his hair, “It never occurred to me you wouldn't be able to read it but there you are. Luckily my guardian angel provided me with the book on disc and since I already had programmed the Asgardian language into the tablet for studying, it was a simple thing to translate.”  
Ingrid was joined by Edie, then Cait who stood on either side, staring at the tablet.  
“There is more to this than one page, yes?” her hand hovered over the screen until Colin leaned down and swiped his finger across it.  
“That's how you turn the page. You say Edie knows simple words? Let's find one to teach her..”  
He sat down on the bed beside Ingrid and touched the screen again, bringing up a small empty box.   
“Let's start with something she sees all the time. Since I'm still no great hand with your language, just tap the corresponding keys to spell cow.”  
Ingrid stared at the keypad that had sprung to the foreground for a moment, then gingerly began to tap the screen, looking up at him when she was finished, “And now what should I do?”  
He tapped the arrow beside the search bar and the image of a cow took the place of the keyboard, with the appropriate hand gestures underneath but before Ingrid could ask him what to do, Edie was tugging on her sleeve with one hand, her other hand up to the side of her head.  
“Looks like she's already beaten you to it.” Colin chuckled as he mimicked the sign to her with a nod. “Cow.”  
She pointed to the picture then to Cait who followed her lead looking up at Colin “I am saying cow?”  
“In American sign language...yes.”   
Ingrid let out a small whimper, her hand to her mouth as Edie pulled on her sleeve again.  
“How do you bring up the word bar again?” Ingrid looked down at the screen.  
“Tap the small square....right, just like that. Now spell the word, tap the square again...”  
Ingrid tapped in the word “Mother” with more confidence this time. When the image of a young lady holding a baby appeared, Ingrid pointed to the tablet then to herself.  
At once, Edie grinned broadly, put her thumb to her chin with her fingers outstretched and wrapped herself around Ingrid's arm.   
“Colin, oh my....” Ingrid's voice wavered, “This is..,.”  
Colin produced from his pocket a small black square with a short cord, “Each evening when yer finished with the tablet, plug this in and set the whole affair on a windowsill. It's a solar charger, meaning it draws its power from the sun and turns it into energy to power the tablet's battery. Even the moon will produce a good charge with these little babies.”  
He handed the charger to her and she held it in her hand watching Edie sign “Mother” over and over. Finally she handed both the tablet and its charger back to Colin, “I heartily appreciate the gesture, Master Denehy but I cannot take it.”  
“Nonsense, I've got my own, honestly. Take it.”  
Colin endeavored to hand the tablet back to Ingrid but she held her hands to her chest, “You do not ken. I must ask Silas's permission to teach Edie.”  
She stood from the bed, glancing down at Edie who had moved to Colin and was now pointing at the tablet, her hands out.  
“I do not know how to tell you what this means to me,” Ingrid put her hand atop Edie's head, “I will try my very best to convince him of the merit of this language but you well know he holds no great love for Midgard. He may even best Lord Loki in that respect.”  
Colin held up the tablet, “Can you tell me he wouldn't want to learn how to talk to his own daughter?”  
Ingrid clasped her hands together before her, “It is so very hard for you, this I know. He has a large heart topped by a head of rock...were this magic square a gift from the king himself, he would not take it if he was to find it was from Midgard. I promise I will do what I can.”  
“Ingrid!” came a distant voice, “Morning meal is ready!”  
“Come. Cait will you take Brynn's hand, Astrid to me...” Ingrid began to herd the children from the room, pausing at the bedchamber doorway, “Forgive me, Master Denehy, I will to my best to convince Silas. I will find a way.”   
Colin looked at the pad in his hand. Permission? To teach a child to communicate. What was the alternate choice, leave her to grunts and pointing?   
“If you don't find a way,” he mumbled to himself, “I damn well will.”

 

The morning meal had been a much more sedate affair than the previous evening. Not a cross word was spoken, the children were in high spirits, giggling uproariously each time their father would look away and Helgi would make a silly face at them. Even Beth seemed more at ease even though she expressed a reluctance to start her research.  
“If I don't get moving, I never will. I'm a professional procrastinator,” she had joked before leaning over to Colin to whisper, “You men have it lucky. Do you know how hard it is for a woman to use a chamberpot?”  
He'd nearly spit his tea all over the table, “Aye, you've got a harder way to go.”  
Every once in a while, he would meet Ingrid's eyes as she helped Eidra with the children and she would smile. It did his heart good though not as good as when Brenna nodded to him over the table. That he would keep with him all day.  
He drained the last of his tea and set the mug down, pushing away from the table. “If you young ladies will excuse me. I have a busy day ahead. I have to ride out to the portal site and make my preliminary report.”  
Brenna sat forward, seeming about to speak when her father set his mug down as well and stood up, “I am eager to see how Stark managed yesterday.”  
Brenna took a deep breath, “Papa may I join you?”  
“Not today,” he nodded to Colin as they started from the room, “There will be nothing to interest you.”  
“Liar,” she muttered under her breath, turning to Eidra, “Mama, might I be excused?”  
“You may,” Eidra patted her knee, “What have you planned for today?”  
“Reading,” she called over her shoulder, “With a side of boredom.”  
Helgi watched her stalk from the room, “I would alleviate her boredom with a round of heavy polishing. Poppet, you let her off too easily.”  
Eidra picked up her mug and plate, “I know Helgi. Beth would you help us clear the table? Then Gretten will start to acquaint you with the kitchen.”  
“I know, Helgi,” Helgi muttered, “And yet you leave her to sulk in her room  
Beth gathered her dishes and and with a silent prayer followed Eidra into the kitchen.   
Helgi stared after them tilting her head to Ingrid, “Now the fun shall begin.”

 

Agathon turned his massive head to Brenna as she tightened the straps beneath his belly.   
“Do not give me such a look. You try to stay put all day with none but chores and books to amuse,” She opened the stall gate, leading Agathon out of the stable into the sunshine where she hauled herself into the saddle.  
“I declare Papa is right in some respects. Midgard has fair ruined me for the country life.”  
She nudged her heels to his sides and they started off down the rutted track past Hal and Vesta's cottage towards the main road and the longhouses.


	15. 15

Gretten rubbed his temples, stifling a groan. Eidra had begged him to have patience, suggesting he try counting in his head when he began to feel irritated. She had not been long away from the kitchen and he had already hit two hundred.  
“How many of these....instant paintings must you take?”  
Beth held up her tablet, “I think this will about cover it...see?” She held the tablet out to him but he waved it away. With a shrug, she slid a finger across the screen and started to type until she noticed Gretten standing with his hands on his hips.  
“Exactly how will this little arrangement work?”  
Beth looked up from the tablet, “Oh...you go about your daily routine. I'll observe, take notes, ask questions..,”  
“And you are to do this for half a season?” he began to count again as Beth pulled the bench from the worktable and sat down.  
“As I become familiar with the routine I could help you....there's nothing better for learning than experience.”  
“My kitchen, my domain. I do not...,” Gretten gave a derisive snort, watching her tap the screen of the tablet. At last he stomped over to the table to look over her shoulder, “Whatever are you doing?”  
“Transcribing what you're saying...see?”  
Gretten scowled at her, “I cannot read your Midgardian scribbles...now as I was saying, and this you may quote, I do not need a woman's help in the kitchen!”  
He felt his face grow red again when Beth let out a giggle.  
“What in the name of my Great Uncle Gorr are you laughing at?”  
His question only made her laugh harder, praying she wouldn't continue into hysterics. He made her so very nervous.  
“It's just....that on Earth...excuse me...Midgard... phew..” she fanned herself with her hand, trying to catch her breath, “The traditional place... for a woman was in the kitchen...I mean it's different now...it's ironic..,.” she wiped her eyes, looked up at him. “What kind of name is Gorr?”  
Gretten's eyes narrowed, he tromped to the cupboards, pulling out a wooden bowl, “A family name!”  
“An Asgardian name?”  
Gretten slammed the bowl on the table, irritated at her lack of reaction, “It is a dwarven name. My family hails from Nidavellir!”  
Beth's mouth dropped open, “Dwarven...you're a dwarf?”  
Gretten lifted the top from the flour barrel, scooping a measure out with the cup which was half buried inside, toppling the cup into the bowl before her, “What of it?”   
Beth stared bold faced at him, “We have stories on Midgard called fairy tales...”  
“I have heard tell of them. Brenna thinks it great fun to tease me.”  
Beth bit her lip, “Well, I thought dwarves were....” she put her hand in the air, lowering it closer to the ground, “Well, short...”  
Gretten grunted as he scooped another cup of flour from the barrel, considered dumping it over her head.  
“But you're sort of tall. You're taller than me by a couple inches,” Beth stood up from the bench, “See?”  
Gretten stopped as she walked up to him with her hand on her head floating it over his own bald pate. “Yeah, maybe by an inch.”  
He was flummoxed. More than that, he was undone and it unnerved him. He backed away with a grunt.  
“I am the tallest in my family. Enough of this! What does it matter? You are here to learn are you not? You are not here to discuss my heritage!”  
Clamping her mouth shut, Beth returned to the bench, watching Gretten's features relax as he began to draw water into the cup from a pump at one end of the stone sink near the rear door.  
“Are you making bread?” Beth ventured as he brought the cup to the table.  
“An astute observation.”  
He took a small pot from a nearby shelf and took the top off of it, “We go through loaves of bread a day. Bread needs yeast.”  
He continued on unaware that Beth had forgotten her tablet beside her on the table and was now watching him with renewed interest.

 

Stark was uneasy. It wasn't a rarity, in fact he'd gotten used to the tingling in the back of his mind that something was wrong; it came with the job but this was different. He knew what was wrong, he just couldn't do a thing about it.   
Pepper had remarked before he left that he was getting too old to put himself under such stress. Though he had disagreed, he had to admit, only to himself of course, that he felt more off his game each year. He stared at the screen before him, the words “Call Pepper” on his lips as he realized his error for the twentieth time today.  
He banged his fists on the table once, twice and shot up from the chair, swinging open the door to his makeshift office and stepping into the cavernous interior of Longhouse One. The sounds of hammers, drills, men shouting, assaulted his ears. He wanted to scream at everyone to stop what they were doing, take a break. Instead he started to jog down the length of the large structure toward the small contained room at the other end. 

 

Simon yawned again. Rather than repair to the tent city in the field between the longhouses the night before, he had opened an emergency stretcher and fallen asleep inside the lab, completely exhausted from working with the movers, riding back and forth from the city to the portal sites and seeing crate after crate unpacked and properly located. He hadn't the strength or the patience to bother with housekeeping a tent.   
He looked at the deck prism sitting on his desk. An heirloom like this deserved to fulfill the purpose it had been made for. His three times great grandfather would be rolling in his grave to see the cone of green glass enclosed in a windowless room. He reached over, moved it, squaring it off with the right corner of the desk, stood up and walked to one of the packing crates, preparing to unload the contents. The knock and subsequent opening of the door made him glance up from the crate with a thin smile, “Sir?”  
“Still with the sir...” Tony strode past him into the room and sat down in the chair behind his desk. He leaned forward, picked up the prism and turned it in his hands, holding it up to the fluorescent lamp on the other corner of the desk.  
Simon picked up the hammer from the top of the crate, jamming the lever end under one corner of the top. With one good push and a loud creak, the nails slid from the wood.  
“A lot of time could have been saved if we'd been allowed to use the metal packing containers.” Simon muttered, looked up at Tony who had carefully placed the prism dead in the center of his desk, “Must you?”  
Tony smiled, “Uh, yeah. Just checking on your progress. I see nothing's changed.”  
From the moment he'd started to work in the lab with Tony and Bruce, Tony had immediately picked up on his condition, swinging between torturing him and trying to cure him.   
“Not when you point it out, thank you,” Simon walked to the desk and dragged the prism back to the right hand corner until it was exactly where he wanted it.  
He returned to the crate, working at the next corner, “Where was I?...oh, containers....”  
Tony pushed away from the desk, coming around to sit on top of it, pushing the prism ever so slightly with his pinkie.  
“Hey, you read the whole manifesto, the smaller the ecological footprint the better.”  
Simon set the crate lid on the floor, “It isn't as if we were going to leave the crates here forever.”  
“Ah, but if something happened and we did,” Tony held up a finger, “...at least they're biodegradable. It's called looking ahead.”  
Simon set a box on the desk beside Tony, his eyes flickering to the prism which he reached over and adjusted once again, “Do you foresee something happening?”  
Tony chuckled, “Did your boys foresee the Revolutionary war? No. Would America have won if King George had been better prepared?”  
Simon frowned, “Not seeing the connection.” He opened the box and started to empty it of it's contents as Tony rolled his eyes.  
“You've got a brilliant mind, yet you miss the simplest things.”  
When Simon continued to unpack, Tony steepled his hands before him, “Ever heard of the Boy Scouts? Old American organization? Their motto was “Be Prepared” so that's what I'm doing.”  
Simon looked up at him, “There's no need to feed me a line of shit.”  
With a chuckle, Tony hopped down from desk, “No, I guess not.” He peered through the glass walls out into the longhouse interior where workers, scientists were starting to trickle in and set up their stations, unpacking, moving equipment.  
“It's too late in any case,” he murmured, half to himself.

 

“I find the whole of Midgard often lacking in bravery and temerity, yet you claim otherwise.”  
Loki and Colin had slowed the horses to a trot.  
“Aye, my ancestors on me ma's side, Scottish all. The ancient Scots often went into battle wearing torcs about their neck and nothing else save the sword they carried.”  
Loki stared at him, “No armor?”  
Colin smiled, “No anything. Naked as the day they were birthed.”  
Loki shook his head, “Brave says you, suicidal says I.”  
Colin leaned over, “Brill says I. Tell me, what would you think to see a great hulk of a man running at you wearing nothing but a heavy necklace and a dirk in his hand? You'd think he was either mad, or worse, enchanted. At least that's how they thought in the dark ages. You'd be confused, terrified, disheartened. I say they were brave, ingenious.”  
“I shall stay with my previous judgment.”  
“And,” Colin added, “they would send a line of bagpipers into battle before their troops, playing war songs just to intimidate the enemy further.”  
Loki could see the roofs of the longhouses rising up from the valley as they neared the site, “They could not have survived in great numbers. Skin is poor protection against arrow and blade.”  
“On the contrary,” Colin turned in the saddle, “They were a force to be reckoned with. They won many battles.”  
“Naked?”  
“Their bums hanging out, aye.”  
“Remarkable. I should like to read of these battles, even if I believe you are telling me stories.”  
Colin laughed, “I'll be happy to request a history of Scottish wars for yer Highness.”  
They stopped at the top of the rise to survey the site which appeared to be bustling already. Small carts zoomed back and forth between buildings carrying crates, people.  
“The small horseless wagons, they are not powered by your fossil fuel?”  
Colin gestured toward the sky, “No, seeing as there's no petrol stations around here, they're using solar powered vehicles, some electric too so it appears...” he took his tablet out of his satchel, turned it on, held it up and took a picture of the valley, “Shall we?”  
Loki waved to the road, “Lead on.”

 

One of the workers tapped on the door to Simon's office before he opened it a crack, “Mister Stark? You have visitors on site.”  
Tony clapped his hands together, then patted Simon on the back, “Finally, a proper diversion. Come on Foster, I'm going to properly introduce you to the most exasperating man I know.”  
“Surely there can't be two of you in this world.” Simon shrugged from beneath his touch though Tony had begun to guide him from the room.  
“Oh...oho that's quick, almost as fast as me. Now let's go play nice.”  
Simon looked at his desk, the crate, “I've quite a bit to do here.”  
Tony took his arm and steered him again toward the door, “Which will still be here when you return, trust me.”  
“Who are we to meet now, pray tell?”  
“My friend, Destructo.”  
Simon tilted his head, “Excuse me.”  
Tony waved his hands in frustration, “Loki then, is that better?”  
Simon dug in his heels again, “I met him last evening, don't you recall?”  
“I had to play nice then,” Tony winked at him, “I like to get him as irritated as I can. It's a personal challenge to me.”  
“Oh yes. I recall that game very well...” Simon rubbed his forehead, “...but I would like to finish setting up my space before the noon hour.”   
Too soon, however, he was following Tony at a trot down the length of the longhouse.

 

“Gods, it is much too early for him,” Loki stuffed his riding gloves into the belt about his waist, heard Colin chuckle as Tony took his hand and shook it.  
“Welcome to my summer home guys. There's not much to see yet. They're putting in the pool this week, then I'm going to have a housewarming party.”  
Loki let his hand drop, “So often do you jest that I fear I shall never know when you are being serious.”  
Tony winked at him, “Trust me, you've already seen serious,” Cutting off any response, he ushered them towards his office at the opposite end of the longhouse, “Now we've had a long twenty-four hours but I'm pretty sure we've transported everything.”  
“Pretty sure,” Colin interjected, “Of course you meant positive.”  
“You know the old adage, only fools are positive,” Tony turned to Loki and raised an eyebrow only to be met with stony silence, “Nothing?....damn it usually works. I even gave you a chance. Okay, let's say if we have missed anything, we'll find out when we're all unpacked and then we can order it.”  
Tony opened the door to his office as the others filed inside, “Jarvis, could you do me the honor of bringing up the schedule please?”  
“Of course, sir.”   
In the middle of the room appeared a neon red grid which he pointed to with his index finger. “This..” Colin saw the grid change until the date 7/1/29 stood out in bold red at the top with a list of tasks written beneath it, “..is where we are now.” He flicked his finger across the grid until 8/1/29  
appeared.  
“..And here is where we hope to have the first portal ready for testing.”  
Loki stepped up to the grid, started to read the task list, “Item test? What does this mean?”  
Tony moved to stand beside him, “It means that we send an inanimate object through the portal and if it doesn't come out on this side looking like scrambled eggs, we move to live tests.”  
“Reassuring isn't it?” Simon piped up.  
Tony turned and gestured for him to approach. Cursing his large mouth, Simon walked up to Tony, nodding to Loki who gave him a polite smile.  
“You recall meeting Simon yesterday morning?” Tony patted Simon's shoulder, “He's the brainchild who figured out how that little trinket of your daughter's worked, or rather how we could imitate the energy signal.”  
“So the genius deferred to other minds? I am surprised you allowed he had a hand in it.” Loki's smile brightened as he looked at Simon and with a grin, Simon realized Loki and Tony were sparring. He felt it only fair he paid Tony back for taking him from his chores.  
“I don't want to brag,” Simon looked down at the floor, “Not exactly my thing and all, but I will say I came upon two of the most brilliant minds known to science standing there with their mouths hanging open.”  
Loki raised an eyebrow, glancing at Tony, “Two? Who else was at such a great loss?”  
Tony grinned gamely as Simon kept on, “Doctor Banner? You probably..”  
“The beast?!” Loki cried, “Here is no great surprise for I have long known he is more brawn than brain.”  
“Oh, you've met then?” Simon replied as Tony put his arm around Simon's shoulders to whisper in his ear, “You know what? I'm going to give you a homework assignment later...”

 

Brenna dropped to the ground, tying Agathon beside Blackberry at the post by the longhouse door. Workers walking in and out of the building nodded to her. A man approached her, dressed in a dark blue suit which called to mind the one Lily wore on Midgard. Another agent?  
“Can I help you?”  
Brenna nodded, “Yes. I am looking for Mister Stark and my father, Prince Loki.”  
The young man scanned the encampment as if unsure how to proceed. At last he opened the door, peering inside, “If you'll follow me, I'll help you locate them.”  
“Thank you.” Brenna smiled as they entered the longhouse, shutting the door behind them with a hollow thud.

 

Colin spied Brenna first as he gazed out through the glass walls at the workers. He turned to Tony who was facing him and jerked a thumb at the glass. Tony kept talking to Simon and Loki though he gave Colin an odd look until a light rap on the office door caught their attention. The young agent stuck his head inside.  
“Sorry to interrupt you, sir. You have another visitor.”  
“I was terribly bored at home,” Brenna groaned as she sidled past the agent into the room, heading toward Tony who threw his arms wide and strode over to her, wrapping her in a great hug.   
Colin could see Loki's face darken considerably whenTony held her out at arms length,  
“Brenna, I didn't get a chance to say hello yesterday. You look so grown up now. How old are you again?”  
“Nineteen seasons. I shall be twenty by the middle of the next moon.”  
Tony led Brenna to his desk pulling out his chair for her to sit in, “Weren't you going to college?” he looked up at Loki who was now glaring at her.  
“How come she's not in college? Don't tell me you forbade her to go? She's one very smart young lady.”  
“We had an agreement,” Loki growled through clenched teeth, “She was to come home to Asgard for two seasons so she could learn to conduct herself as a noble then she could return to finish her schooling if she wished.”  
Tony took her hand and patted it, “Excellent. You've picked out a school then?”  
Brenna put her hand atop his, “I was accepted to City Tech in New York. I am fairly bursting with excitement. I cannot start until spring but I am going to visit Sophie after my birthday. We are getting an apartment together for she too is going to college in New York.”  
Tony gave her another hug as Loki began to seethe with anger, “Now you know all you gotta do if you need anything at all is ask your Uncle Tony or your Aunt Pepper. Promise me?”  
“She will need nothing,” Loki growled, “...which I cannot provide for her though I thank you for your offer. Now may we continue with the tour?”  
Brenna stood up but Loki put his hand out, “You may stay here and wait for me.”  
Tony was quick to offer his hand to her, however, “Now it's my project. If I wish for an extra guest, I can have one. It's not a big deal. No top secret stuff.”  
“I told her to remain home.” Loki stared at her, “There is no need for her to be here.”  
“Nonsense, we wouldn't be here in the first place without her. Come on, let's get started.”  
They re-entered the longhouse interior, following Tony who had given Brenna his arm.  
Colin looked up at Loki who by now seemed at the very edge of his patience, “She's not hurting anything by being here. Stark's right, without her, we wouldn't have the portals.”  
“I was not concerned about her disrupting the visit, I am angry she followed us here after I told her to stay home,” Loki turned on him, “She is disobedient.”  
Colin gazed through the glass wall at Brenna, emboldened, “She is well on her way to twenty. She's an adult in every sense of the word.”  
To his surprise, Loki gave him a smirk as they started out of Stark's office, “Now you sound like my wife.”

 

“So Pepper stayed in New York? How sad.”  
Tony gazed about the longhouse, “I've got to have someone to run my company while I'm gone. It's better like this. She'd have nothing to do here, she'd only be underfoot,” He pointed to the scaffolding which was being laid out on the floor of the longhouse, “This framework will surround the portal during construction for ease of access. Over here is where we monitor power levels for our solar chargers...”  
They toured the longhouse for the better part of an hour until they had reached Simon's office and they walked inside.  
Tony nudged Simon once and as if bitten by a snake, he jumped, “Ah, this is my office....where I will be...um...working,” He backed toward his desk, feeling confined. As his hands touched the corner, his fingers outspread, pushed the deck prism to the right until it teetered at the edge, finally dropping to the floor with a solid crash.  
Simon turned paper white as he whirled about to stare at the green glass which had split into large shards.  
The room went silent as Simon dropped to one knee and began to pick up the pieces, angry tears floating in his eyes until Brenna bent beside him and held out her hands, “Give me the pieces.”  
Simon gazed up at her, “Why?”  
“Listen to her,” Tony put a hand on his back.  
After a few long seconds, Simon set the shards in her hands as she closed her eyes. At once she was aware of an odd melodic hum, strangely familiar, within her. The shards seemed to be emitting some sort of power signature and it almost threw her off her task. Her hands closed around the glass pieces, the sharp points digging into her skin as she saw the molecules restructuring, realigning, melding together again in their correct order. Sliding like silk, glittering as they spun about until they were even. She caught a fleeting glimpse of a symbol, like writing but it faded as swiftly as it had appeared. Sweat began to bead on her forehead, the hum increased until it filled her mind with a resonance. She heard Simon gasp and at last opened her eyes with a smile, handing him the deck prism, whole once again. Her head had started to ache as it often did nowadays after such an effort. She reached out for the edge of the desk and pulled herself to stand, pivoted about to remark to her father that it was a good thing she'd been here when suddenly the world turned gray then faded rapidly to black.


	16. 16

Brenna was aware of voices far away, muffled as if they were speaking through a pillow. She wanted them to stop talking, wanted the hand on her face to stop moving. As an acrid smell filled her nose, she brought a hand to her face and began to cough.  
“Thank the gods she is coming around. Waken, my princess.”  
It was her father speaking to her, his hand on her cheek. She opened her eyes to spy everyone standing around her. The young man who'd escorted her into the longhouse was kneeling to one side of her, a brown bottle in his hand, her father opposite him pulling her arm to sit her upright.  
“You cracked yer head a good one,” Colin rolled the chair over to her as Loki lifted her from the floor and gently sat her down into it.  
“What happened?” Tony was squatting on the floor in front of her.  
She looked up at her father's worried face, at Simon who seemed ready to purge. Colin, concern furrowing his brow. Should she tell them of the glass prism? What it was doing?  
“I do not know. Healing something takes a lot of energy. I am simply worn out...but I am fine,” She brushed her hair from her face, patted her father's arm, “I am fine, truly.”  
With his eyes still locked onto her, Loki bowed to Tony.“We will take our leave now and escort her home.”   
“You sure? I could get the team medic to look her over.”  
“There is no need,” Loki helped Brenna out of the chair though she extricated herself from his grasp, “If we have need, I will send for someone.”  
Tony eyed Brenna, “She's looking a bit peaked. Watch her for a bit today. She probably has a mild concussion.”   
“Concussion....?” Loki began but Brenna grimaced.  
“Papa, it means I hit my head hard. Mister Stark is concerned.”  
Loki looked at Tony who wore a smug expression as they reached the longhouse door, standing aside as a couple of workers entered before stepping back out into the sunshine.   
Simon had been quiet since the incident but as Brenna unraveled the reins from the post, he walked up to her, “I...I want to...thank you for what you did for me...whatever you did...the....it's a very special thing...the prism. Been in our family for years.”  
Brenna giggled, “It is quite alright. I was happy to help.”  
Simon cleared his throat, clasping his hands together before he started to fidget, “Tell me....is it...what you did...is it magic? I mean, I know about....mutants, which of course you are not I'm sure...but..”  
To his consternation she reached out and took one of his hands in hers, “You may call it what you wish. I am only happy I was able to help you,” with a smile and a reassuring squeeze, she let go and set her foot into Agathon's stirrup.  
He stared at the hand she'd held for a long time as the party mounted up, Loki talking to Tony a minute longer.  
“She's some kind of special isn't she,” Tony's voice startled him out of his reverie as they watched the trio ride away up the road, “Should get that checked.”  
“What?”  
“What? Oh nothing,” he waved at Simon, ...let's get to work.”  
With a final glance backwards, Simon followed Tony into the longhouse.

 

They had gotten a considerable distance from the longhouses when Loki swore aloud, “Damn!”  
Brenna and Colin looked at him, startled.  
“What is wrong, Papa?”  
Loki brought his horse about, staring down the road in the direction they'd just come from, “I promised your mother I would ask something of Stark and it entirely slipped my mind. Now I must return to the longhouse. I will be late to the palace.”  
Brenna bowed her head, “I was something of a distraction. Forgive me.”  
“Indeed,” Loki muttered, “That discussion we will save for later, however. Colin, see her home will you?”  
“Aye, yer Highness,” Colin nudged Lightning forward until Brenna called to him.  
“Wait, Colin. Papa tell me what you need and we will return to the longhouses. You get yourself to the palace.”  
“No,” Loki brought Blackberry to stand beside Agathon and reached over to Brenna, tenderly stroking her hair, “You were taken ill. I want you home abed.”  
“I told you I am fine, you waste time in debate.”  
“Begging yer pardon, yer Highness. I'll ride back with her to the longhouse then we'll head straight home. If I must, I'll lock her in her room to see she rests.”   
Colin watched Loki wrestle with his decision for a minute as Brenna protested.  
“The sun has not yet reached the top of the sky. It is too early to return to bed.”  
Loki gazed up the road in the direction of the city, “Very well. Ask him to procure the Midgardian medicine which helps your brother Brynn and then to home with you.”  
Loki nodded to Colin, then to Brenna, “I will see you this eve.”  
Brenna followed his progress as he headed up the road at a trot, glancing back with a wave before he was out of sight.  
“I should have gone with him to the palace today....,” Colin sighed.  
“There is still time to catch up with him.”  
“Not on yer life. You heard his orders. I'm not about to go agin' them.....he was powerful worried about you....a rare public display of affection.”   
“Not so rare as you would think. He has his moments,” Brenna kicked Agathon into a trot, “Now that you have been privy to daily life with our family. I do hope your opinion of Asgard has changed.”  
Colin smiled, happy to have a small block of time with Brenna to himself, “My opinion has improved, if yer asking though its hardly a reflection on a whole kingdom to stay with one family.”  
“I ken, still it has improved. Do not tell my father for though I am often ready to be shed of the place, I love to come home again. It seems to be the curse of the young to lead a nomadic life until they marry and settle down.”  
Colin leaned forward in the saddle until he was looking up into her face, smiling as she blushed, “You haven't plans to do so for a long time, I gather?”   
“Not at all. My father is still of a mind he can choose a husband for me, however. I hate to disappoint him though I am sure I shall in the end.”  
“As do all youngsters,” Colin sat back in the saddle, “And are you after choosing a Midgardian or a native?”  
Brenna laughed, “I cannot tell you because I do not know yet...” she cast a sidelong look at him, “What of you?”  
“What of me then?”  
“Will you choose an Asgardian or one of your own kind?”   
Colin felt his mouth go dry, “Fer what?”  
Brenna peered at him, “You know full well what I am speaking of.”  
“Ah, no choice there. We've rules against philandering outside our culture.”  
They had reached the longhouse by then. Brenna dismounted, tying her horse to the post outside the longhouse door, “A pity. You fit well into Asgardian society. I'm sure you would be an asset to the realm...” she scanned the immediate area and crooked a finger to him as he leaned down to her, “You have been noticed at court by a number of ladies.”  
“Have I now?” Colin pasted a smile to hide his disappointment even as the logical side of his brain chided, _“As if you stood half a chance with a princess of the realm! Keep to the program, Agent Denehy!”_  
Brenna nodded, “Oh yes indeed. Now I shall be only a moment.”  
Colin sighed as he watched her disappear into the longhouse, mumbled to himself, “I'd like to see the rule makers spend a few days in me boots.”

 

Upon hearing the office door open, Tony glanced up from the tablet on his desk.  
“I am so sorry to bother you again, Mister Stark.” Brenna stood there, hands clasped before her, “My father forgot to ask a favor of you...”  
Tony looked behind her through the glass walls to the longhouse interior, “Still insist on formal titles? We know each other better than that. Tony...say it, To-ny. Never mind, anyway, I thought you were headed home after that spell. Where's Des.....Loki?”  
“He rides to the palace. He has much to do today. I returned with Colin. My brother, Brynn has need of the medication to treat his asthma. Can you procure it for him?”  
Tony tapped the tablet, “It's been a while since I brought you the last batch. He should be on a regular regimen. Let me see what he was using.....I have to return to Midgard briefly, how does next week sound? Can he hold out until then or should I make a special trip?”  
“At your leisure,” Brenna put a hand to her chest, “Thank you so very much. It will ease my parent's minds.”  
Tony held up a hand as she turned to leave, “Oh! That reminds me. I've been planning a study of mutation and the brain. I figure why not start with you...not that you're a mutant in any sense of the word...”  
“It is alright, Mister Stark, the word does not bother me. I am rather proud to be grouped in with my Midgardian friends,” she canted her head to regard him, “I must ask, however, what do you mean by study?”  
Tony's mind was working furiously. When she'd passed out, his first concern was for her immediate safety. After she'd recovered, he couldn't stop from wondering if perhaps something was wrong though he kept his concern to himself. He certainly didn't want to frighten her which left him with no other option than to lie. After all, he couldn't ask Loki outright for permission to perform tests on his daughter what with his track record. Loki was stubborn to a fault even to the distraction of all else.  
“I would have your brain waves measured as you performed your little parlor trick on, say, a pencil. We would do an MRI to see what's going on inside that pretty little head of yours, use it as a comparison to the less than average Midgardian skull. You could be the benchmark for my entire project,” he finished with a broad smile he hoped was convincing enough.  
“I thought I already was,” she fingered the Uruz at her neck.  
“You are, you are! Nevertheless, you're only the owner of that little trinket. This time you'll be the star of the show.”  
She held up the pendant, staring through it at Tony, “I fear you shall find I am woefully average. Just tell me when and how.”  
Tony locked his hands atop his head, closed his eyes. “How about next week. You can say you're going to pick up Brynn's medicine. It's as good an excuse as I can think of.”  
“You know my father all too well,” Brenna laughed.  
“Or at least I know how he'd react if I said I was going to take you to Midgard to pick your brain,” Tony glanced at the tablet, “Let's plan on next Friday. I'll fetch you from your estate and I'll field any questions from the pater familias.”  
Brenna put a hand to her chin, “Add a visit to see Sophie and I am at your service.”  
“Deal. Friday it is,” Tony sat back in the chair.  
“Wonderful!” Brenna clapped her hands, “I cannot wait.”

Tony sat for some time at his tablet after Brenna left, wondering if he wasn't risking another conflict with Loki but his concern for Brenna far outweighed his long standing discord with her father. During Brenna's ensuing years at Xavier's school, he'd been assigned to keep a close watch on her activity, her progress. In light of such close scrutiny, she had spent some time at the New York penthouse with Pepper and himself when the situation warranted it and he'd grown quite fond of the outspoken, bright daughter of the man who'd nearly killed him. He'd even started to like Destructo though he was fairly sure there was no reciprocation on his part. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling, certain he'd never needed Pepper more than he did this very minute.

 

Throughout the day, Edie followed Ingrid about the house, eschewing Cait and the others at play. She would tug on Ingrid's skirts, make the sign for mother and point to her whereas Ingrid would smile and nod. Soon, however, Edie became bored with the same word. At one point when Ingrid had gone to the kitchen to speak with Gretten, Edie, ever the silent shadow, had opened up one of the cupboard doors and held up a small saucepot. At first Ingrid was confused until Edie signed “mother” then pointed to the pot.  
“Is she hungry?” Gretten asked, watching Edie sign “mother” again, this time, her agitation obvious as she clapped the side of the pot with her hand.  
Beth shook her head, “She's deaf right?”  
“Yes,” Ingrid took the pot out of Edie's hand.  
Beth put a hand to her forehead, “It's been ages since I took American sign language in school. She's looking for a word. Wait, hold on.” she screwed her eyes shut, “Darn it, in our language, I think it's something like this..”  
She rounded her hands as if holding the pot and drew them down to mimic the sides. Edie stared intently at her as she repeated the gesture, “Yes, that's it. Pot. I didn't know Asgardians used signing too. What does the Asgardian sign look like?”  
Edie shot forward, pulling the pot from Ingrid's grasp and racing over to Beth where she shoved the pot into her lap. Repeating the gesture Beth had made she slapped the sides of the pot. When Beth nodded in response, Edie began to jump up and down, clapping, panting with excitement.  
“Oookay...” Beth clapped with her, “I hope I haven't mixed her up.”  
Edie ran to Ingrid, signing “Mother, pot” so quickly Ingrid grasped her hands together until the child stopped moving though her eyes kept scanning the room as if looking for her next target but instead of letting Edie loose, she lifted the excited child onto her hip.  
“Please, excuse me.” Ingrid rasped as she hurried from the kitchen.  
After a bewildered moment, Beth turned to Gretten, “Did I do something wrong?”  
Gretten frowned, “I am at a loss though I should tell you I know of no...what you called sign language in all of Asgard.”  
Beth covered her hand with her mouth, her eyes raised to the ceiling, “Oh boy.”

 

The evening meal was a small quiet affair. Loki and Silas had not returned yet from the palace and so Eidra insisted Ingrid, Edie and Gunnar remain for the meal instead of retreating to their cottage. Edie had quieted down from the afternoon's revelatory excitement though her frustration seemed not to have eased. She sat at the table, pushing the contents of her venison pie about the plate with her spoon, eating little. Ingrid, too, was barely able to finish half her helping, mostly, she sat, silent, nursing her mug of cider as the conversation flowed about her, until finally, as they were clearing the table with Vesta, Eidra asked if she felt well.  
“There is nothing wrong with me!” Ingrid retorted, biting her lip as soon as the words were out of her mouth. She had sounded harsher than she meant to and was chagrined to see surprise on Eidra's face as they started for the kitchen.  
“I only asked because you were so quiet tonight. I see I was mistaken.”  
Before Ingrid could apologize, however, they were already in the kitchen, setting the dishes into the wooden tub in the stone sink. Eidra turned to Gretten, “Excellent meal. Tell me did you let Beth help? She would not say.”  
Ingrid caught movement in the doorway as she retreated back into the dining hall, sure Beth was secreted on the other side, listening.  
“Only with the preparation, Milady. Cutting the bread, stirring the roasted vegetables and the like. She is constantly looking over my shoulder, taking her infernal notes so what could I do? The only way to learn is by doing. She is nothing if not a continual pest.”  
Gretten's usual gruffness seemed muted. On the contrary, he sounded rather matter of fact about the whole affair and she began to have hope he would soon be at ease with his new charge.  
“As was I in the beginning. She will learn your ways in time. Again I say excellent meal, with or without help.”  
“So you say,” Gretten mumbled as he bowed to Eidra, “If Milady is pleased, Gretten is pleased.”

 

Ingrid was lifting Edie from her chair as Eidra returned to the dining table. She beckoned Gunnar to her side and turned to Eidra, “Milady, may I beg leave from chores early this evening?”  
“Of course you may. Brenna and Helgi will help with the children. Is something amiss? Please Ingrid, as a friend I beg you to be frank with me.”  
Ingrid forced a smile to her face, “Nothing is amiss only I do not feel well. I wish to put Edie to bed so I may rest.”  
Eidra twisted a strand of Edie's honey blond hair around a finger, smiling at Edie's silent giggle, “I do hope you are not taking ill. I fear I have come to rely too heavily upon you with the children as of late. Forgive me.”  
Ingrid buried her face behind Edie's shoulder to hide her tears, “Eidra, perish the thought. I love the children all. I am only out of sorts.”  
“If you say it is so then it is,” she leaned closer to Ingrid and whispered, “You are not with child again are you?”  
Ingrid began to giggle, found herself barely able to speak, “N..no, Gods no!”   
“Then go rest my dear,” Eidra draped an arm around Ingrid's shoulders, “I will see you on the morrow.”

 

The sun was well set by the time they arrived at their darkened cottage. Gunnar lit the lamps while Ingrid brought Edie to her bedchamber to don her nightdress, all the while listening for Silas's approach. Edie, however, was nowhere near ready for bed and so Ingrid relented, bringing her out to the common room where she sat with her in the rocking chair while Gunnar added wood to the coals in the fireplace grate before pulling up a stool to take advantage of the light from the lamp upon the dining table while he whittled a long heavy stick.  
As Ingrid began to hum, rocking Edie who was curled into her arm, her rag doll in her lap, Gunnar looked up.  
“Mother, what has you so troubled?”  
“I am not troubled.”   
Edie, feeling her mother speak, raised her head from Ingrid's shoulder only to drop back down in short order.  
Gunnar watched his mother a bit longer, her eyes closed, cheek against Edie's hair, then sighed, returning to his whittling as Ingrid began to hum again.

“Mother,” Gunnar shook Ingrid's shoulder and her eyes flew open. Edie lay limp in her lap, her mouth open, drool dampening Ingrid's bodice When Ingrid sat forward, Edie jerked awake with a whimper.  
“Father is home,” Gunnar ran to the door, opened it and raced outside into the inky black of night.  
Ingrid looked down at Edie who had canted around in her lap and was staring bleary eyed at the open door, waiting. There would be no getting her into the bedchamber before Silas entered the cottage so Ingrid stood hefting Edie onto her hip just as Silas strode through the door.  
“Forgive me for being so late. The High Council was in session, discussing the arrival of the Midgardians,” He kissed her on the cheek and held out his hands for Edie who was already leaning into his arms.  
“Did you dine while you were at the palace?” Ingrid slid her hands in the pockets of her dress to hide her trembling.  
“I did,” Silas sat down in the rocking chair with Edie and Ingrid knelt down to remove his boots. As she worked off the first boot, pulling at the second, she saw Edie start to sign “mother” and point at her. She felt suddenly dizzy.  
“Again with this silly game?” Silas bussed Edie's cheek though she paid the affection no mind, only signed over and over until Ingrid reached up and took her hand, nodding to her.  
Edie clapped her hands, panting happily.  
“It is something she has started to do. It is nothing,” Ingrid glanced up at them, horrified then to see Edie start pointing at Silas, alternately holding her hands out waiting for her next lesson as Silas frowned.  
“What has her worked up so terribly?”  
Ingrid looked down at the floor, heard Gunnar, “Mother?”  
“Gunnar, get yourself to bed, now. You have to rise early on the morrow,” she rose from the floor, opening her hands to Edie who climbed into her arms.  
“Yes, Mother,” Gunnar replied though he stayed where he was.  
“Ingrid,” Silas called, jumping up from the chair to follow her, “What has Edie acting so strangely as of late?”  
“She wishes to know how to say “father,” Ingrid carried Edie into her bedchamber, setting her down onto her bed.  
“She cannot speak. How can she say anything?”  
“I will tell you but I beg you, I implore you to listen before you judge. There is a language called sign which the Midgardians have invented...”  
Before Ingrid could say anything more, Silas strode out of the bedchamber. She followed him out into the common room where she found him pacing back and forth before the hearth.  
“Silas, let me explain..”  
“No more!” He roared, “Not another word!”   
“...It was made for people who are deaf so that they could speak, make themselves understood. Colin told me about it. He procured this language for me on one of his magic tablets. He even translated it into Asgardian so that I could teach her and learn myself as well..”  
As Silas brought his fists down upon the mantle, she covered her mouth, stifling a squeal.  
“Colin! From the day he arrived, I have been ill at ease with him!” Silas whirled about and held a finger up to her face, “This ends here. I will not have my daughter walking about the kingdom making wild gestures, she is already deaf and mute, the people will think her one of the simpletons who roam the city streets. He has sought to pollute Asgard.....”  
“How?” Ingrid cried, “He tries to give us a way to talk to our child, to know her thoughts and you would upbraid him for it?”  
Gunnar, who had been staring at them as they fought back and forth, finally spoke up, “Father, Colin has nothing but respect for Asgard. He has done no wrong.”  
“Hold your tongue! This is between your mother and myself!” When Gunnar cringed at his rebuke, he roared, “To your chamber boy, as your mother told you! I will brook no more discord from you!”  
Ingrid let herself down into the rocking chair, arms wrapped about her waist, eyes closed as she listened to Silas rage on, hearing but heeding little until she felt Edie's hands shove her arms apart. Edie crawled into Ingrid's lap, her index and middle finger stuck in her mouth as she grunted her displeasure. Though she could hear nothing, she was well aware of her mother's distress.   
At last Silas fell quiet, standing before the hearth, staring at them. He looked, then, at Gunnar's chamber door where he could see the boy's shadow sitting on his bed. Without another word, he stalked into their bedchamber, slamming the door behind him.  
She knew his decision was final. As she started to rock Edie again, the little girl's arms slid around her neck in a fierce hug. After a long time, when Edie's arms had slid into her lap, her body a-twitch with dreams, Ingrid picked up the sleeping child and carried her back into her bedchamber where she climbed into bed beside her, falling asleep with her hand on Edie's back.


	17. 17

_Assignment: 64379-01  
Location: Asgard _

_Agent: Colin M. Denehy  
Date: 7/6/29 _

_It has been nearly a week since my fellow Midgardians arrived here in Asgard, peacefully I might add. All materials were transported safely, all personnel correctly assigned. Loki's household received another guest, one Elizabeth Chapel, graduate student here on a study program. All of this went on without a hitch.  
No, strike that...there was a small hitch and it was the fault of yours truly. My request for a sign language manual was approved. I translated it into Asgardian and was prepared to give it to the family nanny, Ingrid so she could teach her deaf daughter to sign. I am well aware I might have broken a rule or two but it would be the hardest of hearts that could bear witness to something they could fix and not at least make the effort to do so. I showed the woman the manual, even taught her daughter a couple quick words. She informed me she would have to ask her husband's permission to teach the girl how to sign. That was several days ago. Since then, Ingrid has done her level best to avoid me at all costs. Her husband, Silas, a member of the Royal Guards, glares at me when he catches my eye though he says nothing. Therefore I have surmised her request did not meet with his approval. God save me from the ignorant. I will keep the manual handy in case the situation changes.  
Other than my error in judgment, things have been on schedule. The longhouses are looking like labs on the inside, like an old fashioned boy scout jamboree on the outside. A tent city has sprung up around the two longhouses as the initial agreement to avoid any other permanent construction is being honored. There is still talk of perhaps one more longhouse being erected for housing if the project is delayed, for any reason, into colder weather but that has been tabled for now and don't go feeling sorry for the campers either. Their tents are built for minus fifty-one degrees celsius and they have the best of everything. Cots, chairs, desks, solar showers, a massive solar cell bank to run fans when it's hot, heaters when it's cold, power lights, coffee makers, etc. They'll be fine when the snow flies.  
Brenna asked if I could procure fireworks for her in my next shipment. It seems she became rather fond of the American Independence day celebration while going to school on Midgard and since the fourth passed quietly here on Asgard, she felt cheated. I then explained how hard my superiors would laugh at me were I to request a box of M-80's and roman candles to be delivered. I had to remind her they were a form of explosives. I did suggest that since she was visiting Midgard in a couple days time to fetch her brother's medication, she could pick some up on her own. If she takes my advice, I'll probably catch hell for that too.   
My own personal progress has been as follows: I've become a fair hand at riding a horse (grandad would fall out of his chair if he could see me), the family incorporate me into their daily doings, chores included. I've helped hang clothes to dry, pitched hay, drawn water, pulled weeds a bit in the manor garden, learned how to churn butter, make lye soap though I prefer the standard issue bars from the encampment commissary. I've even been pressed into service watching the youngest of Loki's brood, an honor I don't take lightly. I admit keeping neutral in such an environment is well nigh impossible to a lonely bachelor like myself especially as time wears on. I feel I belong here now. It was not so long ago, when I first arrived, the absence of electricity, the constant need to conserve solar power for my reports and journals drove me bonkers. Now when I find myself with time on my hands at the end of the day, I am more often to be found in the sitting room with the family, joining in their conversations, listening to their stories. I've even returned to a hobby I'd given up when I became an agent because I'd not the time nor inclination to pursue it. I've started sketching again, whatever catches my fancy, the manor, the palace, the animals, the staff, children. I feel I'm imposing when I ask for parchment to use and so will request a sketch book in my next report.  
Oddly though it may sound, the physical labor seems less like work than the stress of being a liaison what with having to know all the protocols and niceties of the Asgardian culture. What to say, how to say it. The hierarchies, the rules. Bah! I'd much rather chop wood in the fresh air but, a job's a job, still, if the rest of the assignment continues as easily as it has thus far, I might almost feel guilty in calling it work.  
For now I will sign off. Maybe I will try to talk to Ingrid again tomorrow even though I'm likely setting myself up for a right bruise aside my head. Nothing ventured, nothing gained._

_Colin_

 

“You have their new release?!”Brenna squealed.  
Tony sat beside Pepper in the limousine, watching Brenna and Sophie, their heads together, sharing a set of earbuds which trailed from Sophie's mini clip.  
Pepper squeezed his hand tightly, “Is everything on schedule in Asgard?”  
Tony kept his gaze on the girls but they took no notice of anything save each other, “Mostly. We have the portal base started. We had to do with half power right off the bat because one of the cell banks burnt out. Seems it wasn't wired correctly. I have to order another cell bank or we're going to fall behind. If the rules weren't so strict, I'd consider building a small hydro plant, there's running water nearby. I also had to field a meltdown with Foster, the primitive life was starting to freak him out.”  
“Poor Simon.” Pepper shook her head but Tony gave a snort.  
“Poor Simon? What about poor Tony? You know how I am with people, especially people who are mentally unstable.”  
“Like attracts like, honey,” Pepper leaned over and kissed his cheek, “And Simon is not mentally unstable, he suffers from OCD and depression. Under normal circumstances he's a very nice man.”  
“You weren't there, Pepper. Found him sitting under his desk holding that green glass paperweight of his muttering to himself about pissing in a chamberpot. He started out by telling me he was most emphatically not a boy scout. Took me two hours to calm him down.”  
“What did you say to him?”  
Tony smiled as he looked out the window at the line of yellow taxis flanking the limo, “I told him he could stay in the longhouse. Brought his cot inside, hung drapes in one corner to make a little cubicle for him. I'd rather have him at my side on this project so if he wants to sleep inside, so be it. Hell I'll rock him to sleep at night.”  
“I love it! I must have it!” Brenna cried, shaking Sophie's arm as she drew her own clip out of her handbag, “This is what I miss. I cannot simply go to the store, or go online to fetch new music in Asgard.”  
“I'm so glad you're here. Even if it's only for one day!” Sophie laughed as she unravel the transfer cord in her lap, “We have so much to talk about. Oh oh! Brian and Rachel are engaged!”  
Brenna's hands flew to her mouth, “No! When will they be wed?”  
“Spring of next year so they say. I think that's a little early. They don't have much time to plan the wedding.”  
“I do hope they will invite me.” Brenna handed Sophie her mini clip and Sophie plugged them together.  
“Well, duh. Rachel already has you on the list.”  
“So what group's got you kids all in a lather?” Tony interrupted, leaning forward to look at the clips.  
“Screaming Out Loud,” Sophie handed him her clip.  
“No doubt appropriately named,” he murmured as he scrolled through the songs and handed the clip back to Sophie, “So, Brenna, after these little experiments, we'll fetch your brother's medicine and have a nice dinner before we head back to the farm. How does Union Square Cafe sound?”  
“Yes, please!” Brenna moaned, “I have yearned for Midgardian foodstuffs for moons now.”  
Sophie gawped at her, “I didn't think I'd ever hear you say that.”  
Tony slid a bit closer to Pepper as the girls resumed their conversation, whispering in her ear, “Have you missed me?”  
“What a silly question. Without your paranoia, manic outbursts, twenty-four hour marathon work sessions, loud music, full blown conversations at two a.m., I've been bored to tears.”  
He leaned back, hands behind his head, “I'll take that as a yes...unless you were being sarcastic...and I'll still take it as a yes.”  
Pepper sidled closer to him, her voice almost lost beneath the girls chatter, “I'm worried. I just wish I could be there with you.”  
He patted her hand as the limo pulled into the parking garage below Stark tower, “I'd rather you were here so I know you're safe.”  
“And that's supposed to make me feel better?” She frowned at him as the limo door opened.  
“No but it's all I can offer right now. Okay girls, let's get started.”

 

Bruce pressed one electrode to her temple. “I tried not to catch your hair. If I did, I'm sorry in advance.”  
“Do not trouble yourself. It is a necessary evil,” Brenna watched him peel the backing from another electrode.   
He placed another electrode on the opposite temple, “Evil being the operative word. I'll be gentle when I remove them.”  
Sophie tried not to giggle when Brenna looked at her and made a silly face. Bruce's resulting smile made them laugh harder.  
“This is going to be fun, I see,” he pressed another electrode to her forehead.  
“I am sorry. I shall behave, I promise,” Brenna folded her hands in her lap.  
“Only because we have a dinner date.” Tony walked over to the chair and handed her a yellow pencil as Bruce gathered the discarded backings and tossed them in the wastebasket.  
“Now let Banner get a baseline reading, then we'll begin the tests. Just breathe in and out, let your mind go blank.”  
Tony returned to the counter where Bruce now sat looking at the laptop screen.  
“What a dinosaur. I could get you a Clear-View display, you know.”  
Bruce shook his head, “I like my dinosaur, thank you. Besides, I prefer my patients don't see the results and try to interpret what they don't understand.”  
“You can adjust the transparency too..”  
Bruce smiled, “Shhh, testing.”  
They watched as Brenna's brain waves began to register on the screen, Bruce looking up to see what she was doing every so often, “Look at the activity when she's sitting still. I wonder if this is normal for all Asgardians. Makes me want to expand the study.”  
“I'll see if Daddy wants to volunteer next okay? Looks fairly average so far, I mean for her...doesn't it?”  
“Mmm.....yes and no...Brenna, I want you to breathe a bit faster, like you've just run a race. I'll tell you when to stop.”  
Brenna started to pant, kept going until finally Bruce said, “Okay, slow down again.”  
Tony glanced at Bruce's face though his expression hadn't changed as he stood up again and walked back to the chair she was sitting in, “Okay we're going to do some tricks, make your brain work, okay?”  
For almost ten minutes, Tony, Pepper and Sophie watched Bruce put Brenna through a series of tests, making her follow a light with her eyes, say tongue twisters, read from a book, add out loud. Finally Bruce turned to Tony, “Alright now Mister Stark's challenge.”   
Bruce took the pencil from Brenna's hands and with a bit of effort snapped it in half, handing both halves to Brenna, “Okay kid, work your magic.”  
Almost too quick for the eye to register, Brenna held the pencil up, whole again.  
Bruce leaned over, peering at the screen, then up at Brenna, “How are you feeling now?”  
Brenna shrugged, “A bit drained.”  
“Can you break the pencil and fix it again for me?”  
Brenna nodded, snapping the pencil in half. Moments later it was in one piece again. Brenna eased back into the chair as Bruce tapped a couple keys on the laptop and returned to her side, starting to remove the electrodes from her head.  
“This part of the test is finished, now we move on to the real fun.”  
Pepper looked at Tony who was staring at the readout on the screen. He would glance at the girls, then look down again.  
“Let me guess, she has a beautiful brain.”  
“Mmmm.” Tony met Bruce's eyes, “The doctor will be the judge of that.”

 

“Gods! Oh Gods that stings!” Brenna held Pepper's hand while Bruce finished securing the IV line.  
“I know, Brenna. I'm sorry. We have to have dye to outline the brain structure.”  
Brenna gazed over her head at the tube, “Will the test hurt?”  
“Not at all, honey.” Tony patted her arm, “Just lie still and listen to what Banner tells you to do. It's going to be a bit loud, lotta banging and humming. Do you want earplugs?”  
“No I do not think so.”  
“Alright. This will help keep your skull in the correct position,” Bruce adjusted her head in the cradle and brought the velcro strap over her forehead to secure it onto the hard plastic frame, “Too tight?”  
“No, 'tis fine.”  
“Okay then,” Bruce patted her hand, “Just close your eyes and relax.”  
When they entered the control room where Sophie was standing wide-eyed, she shook her head, “Oh shit, I'm wicked claustrophobic, I couldn't do that.”  
“I'm glad you waited to say that in here.,” Bruce mumbled as he sat down at a bank of computers and pressed a button on the keyboard, “Brenna, the bed is going to slide into that tube behind you, alright? You can keep your eyes closed if you want. The tube is going to be very close to your face. The key to this test is to keep still. I'll tell you when it's okay to move around a bit. Ready?”  
“Yes,” came a tinny voice in reply.   
She waved to the window as the bed started to move and Bruce twisted in his chair, “Pepper, why don't you take Sophie to the observation deck. The test is going to take about twenty minutes and it's kinda boring if you don't know what's going on.”  
Tony nodded to Pepper, “I'll call you when we're finished.”  
“Okay, It'll give me a chance to show off the new satellite viewer we installed. Come on Sophie, we'll leave the boys to their fun.”  
As the door to the control room clicked shut, Bruce spoke again into the intercom, “Okay now just relax, it's going to get noisy. Stay still as possible and I'll tell you when it's safe to move. If you need anything just ask, I'll hear you.”  
Bruce let the button go and leaned back in the chair, staring at the screens as images started to appear. After a couple of minutes, he glanced over at Tony who had retreated to a chair along the control room wall. “Did you see the EEG?”  
“Yeah I was right behind you.” Tony looked through the glass at Brenna's legs protruding from the MRI tube.  
“Did you understand the readings?”  
Tony sat back, his arms folded. “You know I did.”  
“Well, what are you going to do?”  
Tony waved his hand to the screen before them. “I'm going to wait for the MRI. All the EEG shows is abnormalities. It might be a normal readout for an Asgardian, we don't have anything for comparison yet...well, we do now but, just wait and see what you get here.”  
“When you said you had someone you were worried about over the phone, I didn't think you meant Brenna. Everything been going alright in Asgard?”  
“So far, a couple glitches but other than that...” Tony hesitated, “Yeah, sure.”  
“Does Loki know Brenna's here?”  
Tony grinned, “Yes he knows. He knows she's here to get her brother's medicine.”  
“Ah,” Bruce nodded, “I see.”  
“I couldn't, in good conscience, not make sure she's okay. She's a kid...or a young adult. If something's wrong, if we can help.”  
“If we can is probably not the question, whether we'd be allowed to is more the problem.”  
Tony rose from the chair and started to pace, “Let's hope we don't need to.”

 

When the elevator doors slid open, Brenna and Sophie were first into the penthouse, rushing to the windows to take in the Manhattan skyline.  
“Jarvis, would you find something to amuse the girls while I dress for supper?” Tony took Pepper's arm, steering her toward the door to their bedroom.  
“Of course sir. Might the young ladies be interested in last night's live feed from Madison Square Garden?”  
Loud music filled the penthouse as both girls squealed, running to stand before the large video screen hung over the fireplace mantle, the bedroom door serving to muffle the first song by “Screaming out Loud”.  
Tony dropped onto the bed, sliding his hands through his hair, “Shit, Pep. What am I going to do?”  
Pepper sat down beside him, rubbing his back, “You told her those tests were for research, right? So tell her you found something.”  
“That's the thing, I thought there might be a problem in the first place. I did this because I was concerned for a good reason. I don't know if the tumor we were looking at is the result of her little party trick or her power is a result of the tumor. Remember that old movie where that guy found he was suddenly capable of reading minds and crazy stuff? Come to find out he was dying from a brain tumor?” Tony punched his palm, “Damnit! I want to keep an eye on it. I want to warn her not to use her power except under dire circumstances. Maybe not even then, but what do I tell her? DO I tell her at all?”  
“Do you think they're related? The tumor and her power?” Pepper glanced at the closed door when the girls screamed.  
“Yeah, I do. So does Banner. He said it's not huge. Probably the cause of her headaches. I'll tell you, I'd rather tell her than her father.”  
“Then tell her, reassure her she's not in any danger now...right?”  
Tony looked up at her, “According to Banner, but he said she should be retested in six months to check on any new growth.”  
“You don't think it has anything to do with that necklace of hers do you?” Pepper stood up, walked to the closet, “Like is it giving off any radiation?”  
“The hell if I know. I do know the same technology we're using to mimic what it can do is far more complex than anything I've ever worked on, including the arc reactor. The power signature is like nothing I've ever seen, so you ask if her condition has anything to do with her necklace. It's a possibility, it's also possible she was affected by her exposure to Midgardian preservatives and chemicals. I just can't say. I don't know what to do save warn her.”  
Pepper set a fresh suit on the bed beside him. “Then that's what you do. You tell her as gently as you can. Assure her she's okay, assure her you'll keep an eye on it.” she took his face in her hands, “It's all you can do for now.”

Brenna and Sophie were so absorbed by the concert playing out on the big screen they failed to notice Tony and Pepper as they exited the bedroom.  
“Okay girls,” Tony jerked a thumb toward the screen as it went blank, “Time for supper. I promised I'd have you kids home at a decent hour.”


	18. 18

Brenna trudged up the stairs with a candle holder in her hand. She'd handed her mother the paper sack full of medicine for Brynn when she first walked in the door, giving her mother a hug which had lasted longer than usual.  
“Did you have a good time?” Eidra whispered in her ear.  
“Yes Mama, I had Sophie with me all day. Mister Stark was very gracious.”   
When Brenna stepped away, Eidra noticed how drawn she looked, her face pale, smile forced, “He said as soon as you get low again, tell him and he will procure as much as you need. He also suggested you get Brynn re-evaluated on Midgard. New treatments are becoming available all the time.”  
“Baby steps, my dear. Perhaps I will broach the subject to your father at a later date. You seem tired. Are you well?”  
She'd nodded, kissed her on the cheek.“It has been a long day. I will tell you more on the morrow.”  
Eidra stood at the bottom of the stairs, listening as her door latched shut. Folding the paper sack securely, she headed into the kitchen to set it on the table until morning.

In her bedroom, Brenna sat before her dressing mirror staring into her own eyes. _“A tumor,”_ Tony had told her, _“you have a tumor.”_   
She touched her fingertips to her forehead. He'd suggested that she not use her power unless it meant saving a life, knowing she would do so regardless were the situation to arise. She had begged him not to tell her father, reasoning that if he found out she was ill, not only would he be furious Tony had subjected her to testing but he would possibly prevent her from starting college. Perhaps he would even forbid her to return to Midgard at all.  
She clasped the Uruz in her hand. Not that he could really stop her now though she preferred to return to Midgard with his blessing. Despite her frequent disregard for his wishes, especially the ones she thought far too strict, she had grown to respect him for the prince he was, love him for the father he tried so hard to be.  
She changed into her robe and lay down on her bed to read one of the new books she'd picked up in New York, trying to draw her mind away from her worries. Finally she set the book onto the nightstand and extinguished the lantern, studying the stars outside her window until her eyes drifted shut.

 

Loki absently touched hid fingers to his lips recalling his kiss to Eidra before he left for the palace that morning, how he'd surmised she was still asleep until she'd opened her mouth against his, her arms stealing around his neck in an embrace that had unlocked his legs, bringing him to kneel by their bed.  
“Milord, will we be stopping at the longhouses this morn?”  
Loki turned to Silas. “No. We will leave them to their work for another week then I will return with Master Denehy to check on their progress.”  
At the mention of Colin's name, Silas grimaced, “Then you will have no need of my company.”  
Loki pulled at Lightning's reins, slowing him to a walk, watching Silas do the same with his horse.  
“I suppose I would need no escort,” Loki waited for Silas to reply. Finding none forthcoming, he looked at Silas, “Master Denehy has been with us now for nearly two moons. Tell me, has your opinion of our guest changed for the better?”  
While Eidra lay wrapped in his arms the evening previous, she had confessed to him a secret which had been troubling her greatly as of late, that of Ingrid's dilemma. She had told him how, one day as they'd been hanging linens out to dry, Edie had run to Ingrid while making strange gestures to her. When Eidra had asked her what Edie was doing, Ingrid had burst into tears. After some prodding, Ingrid had revealed what had transpired between Colin and herself along with Silas's adamant refusal to let Ingrid teach Edie to sign. Eidra had charged Loki with the task of getting Silas to listen to reason even though Loki was secretly inclined to agree with him. Still, Eidra had reasoned, Colin was only trying to help and for that fact alone, he should make an effort.   
They had walked some distance without a reply from Silas. Summarily, Loki steered Lightning a bit closer, “Silas, it is bad manners to ignore a question as if it had never been asked.”  
“Milord I was of a mind to believe my silence was my answer.”  
Loki regarded him curiously, “Whatever has Master Denehy done to leave such a bad impression upon you?”  
Silas face darkened as if he were about to explode. He swallowed hard, taking a deep breath. “Nothing save that he is a Midgardian.”  
“For that you condemn him? Even I have had cause to alter my opinion in the face of Colin's good character. What more has he done. Please I entreat you to tell me. If it is a slight, I wish to speak with him on it.”  
Silas shook his head hard, “It is not a thing he has done directly to me but to my wife and daughter.”  
Loki pulled Lightning to a halt. “Must I order you to tell me what troubles you so?”  
Silas gripped his reins tight as he twisted in his saddle to face Loki, “He has brought a Midgardian tome here to make a fool of my poor Edie! The Midgardians have made a language to let them speak with those who cannot hear. It consists of gesturing and flailing one's arms about like a madwoman! He would have her looked upon as one of the simpletons in the city streets!”  
Loki held up his hand. “I do concur. Calm yourself. This is indeed a sinister plot.”  
“It is?”  
Loki had to bite his lip to keep from smiling. “Of course. Were you to learn to speak with her. You might find she is well nigh as feeble minded as you believe her to be and further still, were you to teach her the language, you too would needs wave your arms about, making inane gestures. What would your fellow guardsmen think, and you a battalion leader? No, better to shelter her. Easier than facing one's fears.”  
Silas frowned, looked away, “I know what you are upon, Milord.”  
“Do you, now?”  
“You would have me believe it is wise to teach her the language, corrupt her mind with Midgardian ways.”  
Loki nudged Lightning into a trot, “I said nothing of the sort. I believe I suggested you put such an idea out of your mind.”  
Silas spurred his horse to keep pace with Loki, grumbling, “I never entertained the idea in the first place. It is you who seeks to trick me.”  
“If the thought never entered your mind then I have done nothing wrong save ask what made you so upset. In fact I have agreed with you.” At this, Loki turned away, scanning the fields along the road with a smile.  
“You seek to twist the truth so to confuse me.”   
Loki heard the petulance in Silas's voice, “Then consider this, my friend. There are those who look upon Edie as a poor deaf mute. They see her as simple, ignorant. Would it be better thus to teach her to speak this language, no matter how strange it may look to others so that you may know what she is thinking. The joke would then be upon those who would scorn her because you would know better that she is a bright child.”  
Silas grunted at this.  
“Do you truly believe Edie is an empty shell? That she entertains nary a thought all day. Do you not think she cleaves unto Ingrid to feel safe? Would you not be frightened of your silent world?”  
Loki thought then of Brenna, the seasons he'd lost with her because of his poor judgment, “I only entreat you to think again upon your decision.”  
Silas stared straight ahead but his tone had softened, “I will, Milord, as you wish.”  
They continued along the road to the city, listening to the morning bird song, hearing a rumble of thunder from the clouds still some distant on the horizon. He stole a look at Silas's stony face, deep in thought. It was obvious he'd given the man a gutful to ponder through the day.   
“We've tarried long enough, let us feel the wind in our faces,” Loki called, eager to break the somber spell as he kicked Lightning into a gallop and Silas followed suit.

 

Colin had wandered outside with the family to catch the evening breezes, talking with Loki and Eidra while the children played about the yard. Fen and Gunnar had put on a mock swordfight with wooden sparring swords. Brenna excused herself early, claiming she was tired. Ingrid knelt in the grass, watching Edie play with the children while Silas stood silent beside her.  
Gretten leaned in the back doorway chatting with Beth. Helgi sat knitting in a chair Loki had carried out for her. The children would bring her flowers and she would stick them in her hair, making faces while they laughed, running to find more.  
“Colin, came you from a large family?” Eidra asked him, observing his smile each time the children would clamor for the flowers.  
“Ah, no. I'm an only child.”  
“Gods, it must have been so very lonely.”  
Colin thought for a minute, “Not so bad as you'd think. I had my friends. When I had no choice but to be alone, I made me own fun more often than not. Gave me a grand imagination because I had to think up me own entertainment,” he glanced about the yard. “Though if I had to, I don't think I could ever have imagined this place in a million years.”  
“You should look for a good Asgardian woman and settle down. Most men your age have found mates by now,” Eidra nudged him with her elbow as Astrid clamored at her legs to be picked up.  
“Rules are rules, Milady. It's my job to see I don't break them,” Colin looked up at the sun balancing atop a low hill, “And now if you'll pardon me, I'm calling it a night. I've journal writing to do.”  
With a bow, Colin took his leave, slipping between Gretten and Beth on his way into the kitchen, unaware of Silas's eyes following him until he disappeared from view.

 

On the way to his bedchamber, Colin paused outside Brenna's room, considered checking on her but decided against it, instead continuing on to his room. He sat at the writing desk, making himself comfortable, half wishing he'd fixed a cup of tea to bring to his room. Before he could begin his daily journal, however, there came a light rap on his door.   
“Come in,” he glanced up from his tablet, half expecting to see Brenna walk in. When Silas entered the room, however, Colin sat up straight, masking his discomfort.  
“How can I help you?”  
Silas strode to the desk and stared down at the tablet lying there in front of Colin. At such close quarters, he was acutely aware of how solidly built the young Asgardian was. One good punch from him and he was sure he'd not wake up until morning.  
“I have served the royal family since I was seven seasons old. Loki took me into his own household when I was but twelve. When he came to live in the manor house, he employed my wife in tending to his children though it could scarce be considered thus, so dearly does Milady treat her. I would lay my life down for his family and so to that end, when he implored me think hard upon my decision to reject Ingrid's request allowing her to teach Edie your alien hand language, I was obliged to do so.”  
Before Silas could continue, Colin was already reaching into the satchel at his feet, drawing out the spare tablet and turning it on.  
“I was fer hoping you'd see the error of yer ways. The language takes getting used to but it'd become second nature over time.”  
Colin rose from the chair and held out the tablet to Silas who backed away from it, “I did not say my decision had changed. I do not trust your Midgardian devices, and I do not ken your reasoning.”  
Colin lowered the tablet, taken aback. “I saw how frustrated yer wife would get, having to play guessing games with Edie every day, trying to determine what she wanted. I reasoned sign language would give your daughter a way to help her communicate her needs.”  
With a growl, Silas took a step forward. “Of what concern is my family to you?”  
Colin stumbled backward, sitting down hard in the chair, “Haven't you ever done something because you felt it was the right thing to do, because I've come to....to feel comfortable here in Asgard. What is it you've against me? It can't be only because I'm Midgardian, there has to be something else.”  
To his surprise, Colin blinked a few times, then gazed down at the tablet in Colin's hands, “We have been taught your people are selfish, barbaric, lazy, greedy. Would you not believe that which you had been told all your life?”  
“I would that but its a matter of perspective. My grandad was somewhat of an armchair philosopher, had a quote for most any situation. One of my favorites seems to fit our very situation, “if you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.”  
When Silas regarded him blankly, Colin sighed, “All I'm asking you to do is forget what you know about Midgardians as a whole and judge us individually.”  
Colin watched Silas wrestle with himself as the silence between them grew. At last, Silas pointed to the tablet, “Show me the sign for daughter.”  
Colin typed “daughter” into the search bar, smiling as he mimicked the movements on the screen.  
“Of course you could spell her name as well. Yer alphabet is a bit different so the signs wouldn't be the same, but given time, we could work out an acceptable substitute. Where there's a will there's a way.”  
Silas reached out a hand though it hovered just above the screen, “I do not read your language.”  
Colin held up his hand, “Let me help you.”   
A couple taps and the keyboard was transformed. Silas smiled for the first time as he touched the letters.   
“Now hit the green square.” Colin urged him. “I'm still learning Asgardian. You typed “mother”?”  
Silas nodded. Colin handed him the tablet, standing as he offered him the chair, “Let me show you how to navigate the pages.”  
Silas held the tablet in his lap as Colin swiped his finger across the screen to a new page. When he turned to Silas, the guardsman was staring at him.  
“I am fearful of what I might learn but also am I hopeful, excited. I will repay this kindness you have done for my family.”   
Colin tapped the screen again, “If you teach Edie to speak, that's all the payment I'll need.”


	19. 19

Eris shoved the man's legs from across her own, hearing him groan, roll onto his left side, pulling the covers with him as he did so. It didn't matter, she was leaving anyway. When it became clear the man had been full of shit, she'd considered telling him to fuck off but he'd spun such an amusing excuse, she'd given him a ride regardless.  
She carried her heels in her hand as she took the stairs to the brownstone foyer two by two. Casey had been getting tips from the man all evening until she'd taken the stage and the man's attention. Casey was going to be in a foul mood when she got back to the apartment this morning. She had seen her roommate's look of pure jealousy when she'd walked out of the club with the man's arm around her waist but she figured it was only fair. Casey had stolen a few marks from her in the past, especially when she was new to the game.  
Eris pushed open the foyer door and stepped out into the sunshine. She was in a rare optimistic mood. The sun was not yet high enough to throw its warmth between the buildings to the pavement below but she could feel the heat of the day, nevertheless. At the bottom of the stoop, she paused to slip her heels back on, adjust her dress. Across the street, high above her, she heard a shout.  
“Oiga, señora, ¿cuánto por una mamada?”  
She didn't even bother to turn her head in the direction of the voice, “You can't afford me!”  
“Vete a la mierda puta!”  
As she sashayed down the sidewalk, she held her hands in the air with both middle fingers on high though she quickened her steps, “Fuck you too!”   
No need to get stabbed on such a lovely day.  
She emerged onto Tremont street and turned left. The city was waking up. Bostonians heading on their way to work, ticking off one more day on the calendar. One day closer to the grave. She stopped at the bus shelter at the end of Worcester street and sat down on the bench beside an elderly lady with two little girls standing between her open knees. One had her thumb stuck in her mouth, the other hand playing with the lady's long gray ponytail. The other girl, a blond beauty with piercing blue eyes, peered at Eris with an intensity bordering on wonder.  
The lady scootched to her left a bit to put distance between the two of them. Eris waggled her fingers at the blond who smiled. When the bus pulled up to the shelter, she watched the trio board but kept her seat. Not yet, there weren't enough people around but she didn't have long to wait.  
The bus lurched forward as she began to fan herself with her hand. Soon enough, a group of teenagers stopped and sat down on the next bench over, talking loudly, laughing, fooling around. Next along were two men in suits, behind them a couple of middle aged ladies. A group of women came walking up Tremont but stood outside the shelter. The boys in the group of teenagers started making comments about them to the young girls, laughing a bit louder now.  
Eris grinned. Just the right amount of chaos.  
When the next bus pulled up, she got in line, making sure she was dead last, inching along as the passengers paid their fares. She waited until the last passenger, one of the suits, slid his fare card across the pad beside the driver and she was standing on the bottom step inside the sliding bus doors before she let herself fade away.   
It always felt like such a relief. Almost as if she was forcing herself to remain solid instead of forcing herself to disappear. She walked up to the top step and blew the driver a kiss as he canted forward to see behind the suit. It was hilarious, the way the driver stared through her down to the open door. If she weren't transparent, he'd would have been staring where he would normally stare, right at her cleavage. The driver leaned forward, looking out the front window, then down the length of the bus out the side windows.  
“Waddn't there a girly after you, Mistah?”  
Eris pressed her hands to her mouth. If she giggled, he'd certainly hear it. When the suit answered, “Yeah, musta changed her mind,” the driver shrugged, throwing the bus into gear.  
Eris started to the back of the bus as the doors hissed shut, sitting in the last row which was deserted. She watched the scenery roll by as she let herself return to full density. Not one person paid any attention to her and that was just the way she wanted it, at least until the start of her shift tomorrow night.  
She followed the group of teenagers who exited the bus at the corner of Melnea Cass Boulevard and Washington street, starting down Washington to her apartment complex. Before the driver pulled away from the curb, she waved to him, laughing at his confused stare.  
She wanted to take her shoes off again, her feet were aching, but she didn't dare walk barefoot around these streets. You never knew what you'd find lying around. She'd seen broken vials, hypodermic needles, smashed beer bottles, caps. She'd even found a discarded switch blade that she'd spied peeking out from beneath a bush. She'd taken it home and cleaned the dirt off it. Now it made its home in her purse.  
Before she keyed herself into the foyer, Eris gazed up the side of the apartment building to their window where an ancient air conditioner jutted out into the air. When she opened the door, the heat of the main foyer blasted out at her.   
“Jesus, it's hotter inside than it is outside,” she groused as she started up the stairs to their fourth floor apartment.  
As she made the fourth floor landing, she stopped to catch her breath, listening to the sounds of the daytime dwellers. Muffled TV's playing the Sesame Street jingle, the sizzle of bacon in a frying pan. She hurried down the hallway, slid her key into the door lock of apartment one-eighteen and turned the handle, hitting the door with a grunt.   
“Casey!” she shouted between the crack in the door, “Will you slide these goddamn chains out of the way, it's fucking hotter than hell out here!”  
Eris put her eye to the crack and peered inside. She could see Casey's bedroom door shut tight and wondered if Casey hadn't found a mark after all. She was going to need a reminder not to bring her work home. That was all they needed, some lovesick stalker staking out their apartment.  
“Casey!” Eris banged on the wall, “Wake the fuck up!”  
Two doors down she heard Mister Gordon shout through his door, “Keep the noise down ya stupid bitch! We're trying to sleep heah!”  
Eris bit back a reply. She'd fix his ass some other time. Maybe she'd give him a private dance to apologize for her rude behavior then send the video to his wife.  
The click of Casey's bedroom door turned her attention back to her own plight. She saw Casey shuffling to the door in a bra and panties. As she eased the door closed a bit, Eris heard her, “If you'd come home instead of staying out all night, you'd already be inside.”  
“Hey, I got grocery money for the week. What did you do last night?” Eris snorted as Casey shut the door behind her.  
Eris flopped down on the gray couch, nestling into her favorite cushion squealing as Casey swatted the back of her head on her way into the kitchen, “I played an old laundromat heir for all he was worth. Took home four bills so you may kiss my ass.”  
Eris turned on the news, peering over the back of the couch at Casey's tanned behind covered in a pair of red silk undies decorated with black hearts.   
“You look so cute,” she smiled.  
“Fuck you.”  
Eris waited until Casey took the carton of eggs out of the fridge, “Are you making breakfast?”  
Casey grabbed a frying pan from the dish strainer, “Yes I'm making MY breakfast. Latecomers fix their own.”  
Eris sighed as she pushed herself up over the back of the couch and trotted into the kitchen, patting Casey on the behind on her way to the fridge, “I didn't come late, I came early.”  
At the jibe, Casey gave her a grudging smile, “And yet you're back home this morning. Not what he said he was?”  
“Course not. Are you surprised?”  
“Are you?”  
Eris lifted the jug of orange juice out of the fridge door and set it on the little kitchen table, “Nope. Doesn't mean he didn't pay well. I don't care where he got the money from as long as he was stuffing it down my g-string.”  
Casey handed her a yellow plastic cup, “Do you want any eggs? Not that you deserve them, fucking thief.”  
“Yes please, and why do you care? The money is ours together, why does it matter whose hand is in whose pocket?”  
Eris waited as Casey set the pan down on the stove burner a bit hard, “Because he was nice looking. You always get the cute ones because you're....well you're you!  
“Bull, you get your share with your perfect honey blond hair and your big brown eyes and your plump booty.”   
Eris poured a glass of orange juice and sat down in the kitchen chair to stare out the window at one of the residents in the building opposite leaning outside a window smoking a cigarette and talking on a cell phone. She grinned at the scent of eggs beginning to cook in the pan. It brought her back to a time deep within her memory. She could only recall small pieces, crumbs really, but she could see a blue melamine plate with white daisies on it and a piece of toast spread with peanut butter. Those happy clips in her head, she rarely took a close look at. She found it hard to believe they weren't simply part of a daydream.  
“Do you wanna go to the beach today?” Eris looked at Casey.  
“Maybe. We're on again tonight though. How much sleep did you get last night?”  
Eris shut her eyes, “Oh five hours at least. He was one and done. I was out by two.”  
“Get a couple plates down will you?” Casey tilted her head toward the cupboards over the sink.  
Eris took two plates and set them on the table, looking at the little basket in the center as she did, “Is this today's mail?”  
“Yesterday's. I haven't gone downstairs to get today's yet.”  
Eris picked up the envelopes, flipping through them until she had separated hers from Casey's.  
“Bills, bills. Tired of bills...,” A name caught her eye at the top of the next envelope, “Stark Inc. Here we go.” Eris eased the flap open, all the while mumbling a spiel to herself, “We're sorry to inform you that your specifics do not meet our......”  
Casey brought the pan of scrambled eggs to the table and sat it down between the plates, “Go on.”  
Eris, however, had started to read the letter. After a moment, she put a hand to her mouth with a giggle.  
“They bought it.”  
Casey dropped a spatula of scrambled eggs onto her plate, “Who bought what?”  
Eris poked the letter with her finger, “That program. Remember that big announcement on the news about volunteering for that project sponsored by Mister Stark....billionaire?”  
Casey's eyes widened, “You didn't.”  
Eris slapped the letter on the table, “Oh yes I did.”  
Casey snatched it up and scanned the contents, “You're fucking kidding me!”   
She kicked the chair opposite Eris away from the table and sat down hard taking the second piece of paper and bringing it to the forefront. “You lied to them! I don't believe it!”  
Eris was stomping her feet on the floor with her arms wrapped about her chest. “I can't believe it!”  
Casey took the papers and slapped them down on the table, making the dishes rattle. “But you did it by lying to them. For one, you put down you're a professional dancer.”  
“I am. That was the goddamn truth. I'm a pro at what I do,” Eris grabbed the papers from the table.  
“You're an exotic dancer, not a fucking ballerina, or a Broadway extra. What are you going to do if you show up for this crazy trip and they tell you to show them a little routine, ask where the nearest pole is?”  
Eris shot up from her seat, waving the papers in front of Casey's nose, “They're not looking for people to do what they do for a living here. You watched the announcement on TV with me. They're looking for people from all walks of life. I think that covers it.”  
Eris stalked out of the kitchen, flung herself over the back of the couch and sat there, her arms crossed as Casey followed her into the small living room.  
“You're also an unregistered mutant. You didn't put that down either and I recall them saying mutants weren't allowed because of safety issues.”  
Eris picked up the remote control and raised the volume on the TV until Casey reached over and ripped it out of her hand, hitting the power button.  
“Now if they were concerned about safety, don't you think there might be a reason?”  
Eris made a half-hearted grab for the remote. “They're not worried about our safety, they're worried about theirs. They think we're dangerous, remember? Otherwise they wouldn't try to keep track of us.”  
“So you're going to actually do this? You're going to leave me with the rent to pay alone?” Casey threw the remote back at Eris but she didn't touch it.  
“Ask Danni to move in with you. She was looking for a new place to stay.”  
Casey had swung her legs up on the couch and now she shoved Eris with her foot, “I don't want to share a stage with that dense bitch much less share an apartment,” her tone softened, “Why do you wanna leave Eris?”  
Eris took Casey's feet into her lap and started to rub them, “Because I want to be somebody. I've been nothing all my life. People look through me..”   
When Casey giggled, Eris slapped her leg. “Even when I'm visible, don't be a smartass. I've always been fine for a trick but afterward, they just knock me back down to my place at the bottom of the food chain.”  
“Eris, they're going to place you with a family. Did you read the whole paper?”  
“Yeah, so?”  
“And they're going to expect you to integrate into their society for a year. You don't even know what their idea of society is. What if they dress you up like a lady and make you babysit the kiddies? Or assign you to maid duties, did you forget I'm the one that does the housekeeping here? Don't do it.”  
Eris picked the letter up out of her lap and opened it again, “We're going to get a crash course in New York. They'll tell me all I need to know. Can't you at least be happy for me?”  
Without another word, Casey stood and strode back out into the kitchen where she ate her breakfast in silence, cleaned up the kitchen and retreated to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.  
After a few minutes, Eris folded her letter and retreated to her own bedroom on the opposite side of the living room, dragging the wooden box from beneath her bed.  
She sat cross-legged on the floor and flipped it open. The scent of burnt paper wafted up into the air as she removed the books, setting them on the carpet around her. At the bottom of the box, she lifted out a small stack of notebooks. She hadn't opened the box for a month. With her new job at the club, she'd had no time for extracurricular activities and it frustrated her because she was nearly to the end of the second leather bound book. Now that she'd received the letter and had a date to be in New York, the day after Labor day, she felt she was chasing time. She had to finish interpreting the books before she left. They had been her whole reason for applying to the program. The possibility of her dreams becoming reality was impossible to ignore.  
She opened the top notebook, the newest one, only a few pages in, and read for a few minutes as her thoughts wandered.  
Though worldly beyond her age, she'd only been seventeen,when she took up with Alden, a thirty-two year old businessman from England. He'd taken her to an apartment he kept in Cambridge, a short distance from his home in NewMarket and there she'd stayed, a bored, well maintained mistress. A number of times she considered returning to the states with the money he would give her but back then she was still foolish enough to think someone could love her back so she had stayed. One day, he'd come to the apartment but instead of the usual visit, he'd taken her for a ride to the town of Bury St. Edmunds. His banking firm had foreclosed on an abandoned house and he was being sent to take a look at it.  
It was a more than a house, it was a mansion. Alden produced a camera and started to take pictures of the pale blue structure while she went inside to wander about the rooms, exploring the cupboards in the kitchen which smelled of old tea and baked fish, the parlor with its old damask easy chairs, a table, couch, all uncovered, their stuffing bedding for mice and other creatures. She climbed up the stairs to peek inside the bedrooms, the master bathroom with its large old clawfoot tub, and the faint scent of castille soap. While Alden was taking pictures of the second floor, she retreated to the basement where she found a large rec room with a massive billiard table at one end, its green felt cover faded, dirty with dust. At the opposite end of the room was a stone fireplace flanked by two rocking chairs. As she drew near it, she spied the box, its lid flipped open, books piled on the stone hearth beside it. Papers had been scattered on the fireplace grate, some burnt beyond recognition, others singed. Whoever had attempted to burn the contents of the box had done so in such a hurry they had failed to make certain the job was done.  
She had picked the papers out of the fireplace and dusted the ashes from them, laying them on the stones beside the books. When she glanced at the cover of one book, she realized she couldn't read the title. Not only were the words foreign, if they were in fact words, the letters themselves were alien altogether. She started to leaf through the books, her heart pounding with anticipation, fascinated with the drawings, sketches, the scrolling strange script until the book seemed to draw her in. She loaded the books and the loose papers into the box and closed the lid. The box was almost too heavy to lift but she managed to wrestle it up to the car and secret it on the floor in the back seat just before she heard Alden shouting her name through the open front door.  
By the time they returned to Cambridge she'd worked out how to get the box inside without his knowledge, leaving him snoring on her bed after they'd gotten take away and made love until nearly midnight. She'd snuck out to the car then, fetching the box and hiding it behind the couch before waking him up to go home.  
Having little else to do save wait for his next visit, she pored over the books. For a week straight, she compared every language she could find to the scribblings in the books without success. Finally, in frustration, she took the papers out and spread them on the living room floor. Some were old light bills, newspaper articles pasted scrapbook style, a couple of letters. She knelt over them, looking back and forth until at last she saw it. One badly singed but still legible letter had been written in English. Over each word, written in pencil so light she had trouble seeing until she lifted the letter to the lamp on the end table, were the same scrawls above each individual letter. Whoever had written the letters had unintentionally created a key to interpreting the books. For the first time, she picked up the letter and read it through..

_Dearest Eidra._

_As you don't know me, I will dispense with the pleasantries. I won't ask how you are this day, nor will I talk about the weather. I won't even ask after your family when after all, only one member of your brood is of importance to me. Your daughter, Brenna. She is safe at the moment, under my care. Whether she remains so is up to you. I have asked her to help me in a private endeavor but she refuses to do so without you at her side. This is costing me precious time I don't have, so consider this. Each minute you waste compromises her safety. I have written the address on the back of this letter. Use whatever means you have to reach us but come alone or you will never see her again. I will be waiting and watching..._

She considered for the briefest moment, turning the menacing letter in to the authorities but curiosity won out. The contents meant nothing to her personally though she wondered who Eidra was and who had written the letter. She turned the letter over but whatever had been written on the backside was smudged with ash, unreadable. Still she had the key to the books and when she eventually fled back to the states, she took the box with her. It was a slow process, interpreting the books. One of them was full of what sounded like magic spells, curses, times and places where the spells would work the best. Another contained recipes for mixtures, tinctures.  
The third book, however, was stranger still. At first, she thought it to be a book on mythology but it was far different from the books she read in her infrequent stints at schools. This one spoke of nine realms, describing the lay of the land in each one. There were even ancient looking maps. She kept decoding the book, amazed at the detail, the description, but in the end she was sure the books were only amusements. At one time, when she was truly down on her luck, she'd almost pawned them at a local antique shop but as luck would have it, she found work at the club soon after.  
Still she'd not taken the books seriously until the announcement on TV. She could hardly believe her ears as she heard the places in her book issue forth from the mouth of Mister Tony Stark himself. She knew then she had to go, had to try to reach this Asgard. Maybe there she would be someone, maybe she could find a rich man, raise herself up above this shitty existence, then people would have no choice but to see her, to kiss her hand just as she'd kissed their asses all her young life.  
She repacked the box and slid it under her bed. She was going to Asgard if she had to blow her way to New York, she was going to start a new life.


	20. 20

His hand floated above the shimmering stalks of barley, the heads brushing his palm. “Again,”  
Fen cleared his throat, staring at the heels of his father's boots as he tried to keep pace with him, the soft earth sinking at each step, impeding his progress, throwing off his concentration.  
“To honor the spirits of my ancestors who sit on high in Vallhalla, to honor my father, to take my place among men, I give thanks to you for your sacrifice, great auroch. Let this kill serve as a symbol of my passage from boy to man. This I ask in the name of the mighty Allfather.”  
“Better,” Loki stopped to glance over his shoulder, “Do not be afraid to give your voice free reign. Roar so all of Asgard might hear your vow.”  
“Yes Papa.”  
Loki turned about to put his hand on Fen's shoulder, “You are overwhelmed but you need not be. In body, you are already a man though the Aesir must bear witness to this. It has been decided the ritual will take place before the harvest celebration so you may join in with the others during the festival as an adult.”  
An adult. No longer a boy, a babe in arms. Fen quivered with anticipation as Loki continued down the row toward the edge of the field where a couple of hands waited to speak to him.  
“I have invited Master Denehy to attend the ritual. What think you of this?”  
Fen's eyes grew wide with surprise, “He is not Asgardian, are the rituals not sacred? Do the Aesir know of this?”  
He heard his father laugh quietly. “I would not have invited him had I not asked them first. You presume much.”  
“Forgive me, Papa.”  
“After all, how can the Midgardians learn of our culture if there is no one to bear witness. Do you not wish him to be present? I was of a mind you were fond of our guest.”  
Fen raised his hand, mimicking his father as he stroked the tickly tops of the barley, “I like Master Denehy well enough, Papa but the purification ritual, the rites of passage, they may be strange to him.”  
“Undoubtedly, but therein have I done this. To further show him our world. Do you ken?”  
“Yes, Papa.”  
They had reached the end of the row where the workers stood and Loki gestured toward the house, “See if your mother needs help. The evening meal must soon be ready.”  
Fen sprinted down the rutted road to the house, bursting into the kitchen, startling Gretten and Beth who were sitting at the work table hunched over Beth's tablet.  
“Odin's beard!” Gretten cried as Fen flew through the doorway into the dining hall.   
“Sorry!” he called behind him wondering if he had indeed seen them holding hands as he passed.  
Vesta was setting the table. She squealed as he rushed by her on his way to the sitting room.  
Eidra and Ingrid sat in their chairs while the children played between them on a a woven rug. Fen felt a pang of jealousy as he spied his old Noah's Ark in front of Cait who had arranged the animals in rows before her. He wanted to gather them up, put them back in the ark and hide them away somewhere safe but Eidra had said he should allow his brother and sisters the same joy he'd had playing with them and so he averted his gaze from the scene.   
Edie stood in front of Eidra and Ingrid. When Ingrid would hold the tablet up with a picture, Edie would make the sign for the word with her hands.   
“She is quick,” Ingrid held up the tablet again as Edie clapped and signed the word “woman” “She has learned many words though I lag behind. Silas keeps up with her far better than I.”  
Fen cleared his throat, “Mama, Papa sent me to ask if you needed any help.”  
“I do not, however, you might go wake Brenna and tell her we shall be eating soon,” Eidra reached out and took his hand.  
“Yes, Mama,” Fen nodded as he broke away and headed for the foyer. Brenna had been quiet as of late yet every time he thought to ask her why, the opportunity never arose. Now he would be alone with her. Maybe she would tell him.  
Fen ran up the stairs, pausing at the top on the landing to look down into the foyer as he always did then started for Brenna's bedchamber. As he passed Colin's bedchamber door he heard Colin speaking to someone. He paused, listened, unable to make out words and so crept up to the door, pressing his ear to the wood, praying Colin wouldn't choose that moment to open it up.  
“If there's something wrong, she'll tell me, can't you leave it at that?” Colin sounded irritated but when he spoke again, Fen realized he hadn't heard anyone reply.  
“I'm not her keeper. Isn't that yer job? That's what you've told me. I've broken enough rules already. It's a wonder they've not sent me packing.”  
Silence.  
“...I'm here for a reason? You keep saying that but you don't say what the reason is. I'm here fer me job....”  
Fen held his breath, straining to hear.  
“...Look, go check on the wee ones or something. I was supposed to be finishing a report and I've wasted that time talking....”  
Fen was concentrating so hard to listen to what Colin was saying, he missed the creak of floorboards behind him, screaming into Brenna's hand as she closed it over his mouth.   
“Hush,” she whispered, “He has been talking to no one for some time.”  
They stood there as Colin spoke again.  
“Fergive me. I meant no disrespect. I know yer....heart is in the right place...I'll see what I can do.”  
At the sound of footsteps, Fen and Brenna scrambled back toward her open bedchamber door, ducking inside just as Colin stepped out into the hallway. They waited until he had descended down the stairs out of sight to speak above a whisper again.  
“Who was he talking to, Bren?”  
“I do not know.”  
They headed to the balcony railing, staring down into the sunlit foyer but he was nowhere in sight, “Is his mind coming undone?”  
Brenna cuffed him in the back of his head, “What a foolish thing to say.”  
Fen punched her in the arm in reply, backing away from her retaliatory swing, “What now, foolish? Do you talk to no one when you are alone? I say 'tis strange.”  
Brenna made to swing at him again but instead glanced down the stairs toward the sitting room, “I did not say it was not odd. Keep this to yourself and I will question him in private when I see the chance.”  
Before Brenna could start down the stairs, Fen whispered to her, “Bren? Are you well?”  
She spun around, looking up at him, “Of course I am, whatever made you ask such a thing?”  
Fen's tongue felt pasted to the roof of his mouth, “Well, you are often tired, and quiet.”  
“It is called being an adult and having brothers and sisters to tire you out. Someday this too shall be your lament.”  
She continued down the stairs into the foyer while Fen lagged behind, his tread heavy on the steps, feeling as if he'd just been lied to twice.

 

_“...nineteen...twenty...twenty-one..”_  
Simon finished counting in his head and took a deep breath as the technician stopped speaking. Tony was only half correct. In the months spent at the lab in New York when they were perfecting the portal design Tony had advised Simon to start counting when he would start to come unglued or get angry about something, _“I know it sounds stupid simple but it can't hurt, might help.”_ Tony had assured him.  
One day at the start of the build, soon after they'd arrived in Asgard, he'd reached seven hundred while lying on the cot in his office after a shouting match with the head foreman. The only thing preventing him from walking out of the longhouse to the palace at Asgard with a request to return to Earth was his horrible sense of direction. He'd made his office a bastion of order, the books on his bookshelf alphabetically lined up, his desk squared off, contents of the drawers tidily arranged since anxiety had ramped his condition up to a new level.   
A couple times, when Colin was at the longhouse to deliver his weekly reports to Stark, Beth had come with him to visit. On one such occasion, she'd helped him weather a breakdown, letting him cry on her shoulder as she'd patted his back. She really was a kind, good-hearted woman and he always felt like such a shit when his condition embittered his tongue. She didn't deserve it and so he tried to make up for it by listening to her in return while about her growing love for Gretten, claiming the gruff cook was of the same mind about her. He'd tried to warn her off such actions, citing rules and regulations but she'd brushed off his concern spouting declarations of true love and fate. In the end, even though he heartily disagreed with her, he'd promised to keep her secret.  
“I'm not fond of the design, sir, with all due respect.”  
Simon, yanked out of his reverie, bit his lip, bottom jaw quivering with a sharp response as he took another great breath. “Tell me what it is you don't like.”  
The technician held up the disc, “I would attach the markers to a bracelet or a watchband. Necklaces are too easy to catch on things, get torn off your neck.”  
“One would have thought these issues would be addressed beforehand,” Simon muttered, taking the marker, a small shiny burnished metal oval and laying it in the palm of his hand,“ I'll have to ask Tony if we can come up with a wrist band system, see if it doesn't muck up the signal strength.”  
The markers had been a nightmare to come up with. Entering another realm through the main portals was going to be easy. In the same way the Uruz worked, once a person activated the portal and stepped through, the gateway would shut behind them. To open the portals at the longhouses, they would merely have to activate the markers or return to the longhouse itself. When the portals were assembled and out of the test phase, they would be calibrated to other realms but since the base portals in Asgard were the only ones currently planned, the markers were vital. If a person were to cross over to an unconnected realm without a marker or the ability to summon the Bifrost, he or she would, in effect, be stranded without a way back. The markers, or remote portals as Tony had named them, would be coded to Portal One or Portal Two when they were finally built. All one had to do to activate them would be to press their thumb atop the metal disc thus opening the portal they'd come through...in theory.   
“They would have to be contained in a holder or something. You can't put holes in the disc or it would damage the circuitry inside. The marker would be useless...”  
The technician picked the disc up out of his hand. “Alright, I'll draw something up.”  
“Well be quick about it,” Simon stole a glance at the portal base, “We have just over two weeks until we power on.”  
The technician clasped the disc in his hand, an exasperated look on his face, “Yes, sir..”  
When the technician headed back to his workstation, Simon wiped his hands on his pants and walked over to the portal base which was surrounded by workers. A week ago he'd sat with Tony in his office discussing how the first tests would go on what Tony had called Project “Controlled Chaos”. When Simon had questioned him on the name, he claimed the term had been coined by a high ranking official with nothing else to do but sit around and try to come up with the scariest project titles possible.  
Simon gazed about the longhouse at the boxes of equipment, techs, lab equipment, computers. “Why do I think they weren't far off.”

 

Brenna raised her head and sniffed the air yet again, the book forgotten in her lap.   
“Gretten does a fine roast does he not?” Helgi murmured, reaching over to pat her arm.  
Brenna nodded, setting the book on the table before her. Gretten had come to her a few days ago asking her what meal she wished to have for her birthing day celebration. She had requested a venison roast with root vegetables. However, she had then asked Beth to make her a traditional Midgardian birthday cake, confessing she had acquired a taste for the confection during her time on Midgard. Gretten had shaken his head in disgust though he allowed it might afford an opportunity to make the recipe more Asgardian in style. She had no idea what Gretten might have in mind but whatever the case, she would acquiesce to his whims. His creations seldom displeased her.  
“Twenty years old,” Eidra murmured, her knitting forgotten in her lap,“The time slips much too quickly past.”  
Brenna studied her mother's face, proud that, save for the faint crows feet at the corners of her eyes, the roughness of her hands, she was still impossibly beautiful.   
“With luck, time will be as gracious to me as it has been to you, Mama.”  
Eidra looked up at her with a gentle smile, “Why Bren, how very sweet of you to say so. What is it you wish of me now?”  
“Oh Mama,” Brenna laughed, “Save giving the gift of a compliment well deserved, I want for nothing....that is, unless you have something for me.”  
“Imp,” Helgi poked at her with a bony finger, “Just like your mother when she was young. 'Twasn't only her beauty caught your father's attention to be sure.”  
“And a gift you shall have to celebrate the day you were given to me,” Eidra resumed her knitting, “...but not until after the evening meal when everyone is assembled.”  
Brenna sighed, picked up her book and set it back down, “Do you recall the time we brought my friends here from Midgard to celebrate my birthing day?”  
“Oh very well,” Eidra glanced over at the divan near the fireplace where Astrid and Brynn lay napping on either side of Ingrid who had fallen into a light doze, her sewing spread across her lap, while Cait and Edie played at her feet with their rag dolls “I was recovering from the birth of the twins and Cait was into absolutely everything. To top it all off, your father had to temper himself with Mister Stark. It was a memorable couple of days.”  
“I miss my friend,” Brenna sighed, “I cannot wait until I am able to see Sophie again. Autumn cannot come fast enough.”  
“Hmmph,” Helgi grunted, “When my mother was your age, she was busy keeping a household and raising me. Instead of traveling to that beastly realm again, you should be letting your father find you a good husband.”  
Brenna wrinkled her nose at the thought, “There will be time enough for that after I have finished my studies.”  
“Then you shall be an old maid! Tell her Eidra....,” Helgi cried, waving her knitting needle across the table at Eidra.  
Eidra paused, her brow furrowed, “Brenna, I love your father more than life itself, this you know. That being said, I advise you to enjoy your freedom for as long as you may.”  
“Eidra!” Helgi cried, “Men look for a healthy girl in the bloom of youth. Someone who will produce children of good stock. The older she becomes, the less chance she will have of finding a mate!”  
Eidra held her work up to examine it, “Times have changed, Helgi. Brenna is of excellent stock. She is beautiful, also is she a princess. No man would pass her over even were she five and twenty seasons or better. Have you considered the fact she may choose a Midgardian as her mate? They have no such compunctions concerning a woman's marriageable age.”  
“Perish the thought, Eidra,” Helgi rolled her eyes to the ceiling as Brenna raised an eyebrow. “Mama, I had no idea you were so forward thinking.”  
Eidra laughed, “I am simply practical.”  
“Impractical,” Helgi retorted, “And impulsive but then you always were.”  
Eidra brought her work to her lap where a muffled snap was heard. She lifted her knitting to see dangling from the working stitches two halves of a wooden knitting needle “Damn, one of my needles has snapped. The ones you first gave me, Helgi.” She drew them out of the fabric, held them to her chest and closed her eyes.  
“Ah they were old when I gave them to you, poppet. You have others.”  
Brenna bit her lip. She just couldn't sit there and watch her mother's heart break. She stood, reached across the table and took the needle from her hand.  
“Oh Brenna, you do not need to...”  
“Hush, Mama,” Brenna gently fit the two halves together, and, after a moment handed the needle, intact, back to her mother.  
“I know how horrible it is to lose something you cherish,” Brenna touched the Uruz at her throat, willing the dull ache in her head to cease.  
Eidra stroked the smooth wooden needle with her fingers, “As if it had never broken. Remarkable. Thank you, my heart.”  
“Of course, Mama.”  
Ingrid appeared in the archway to the dining room, bleary eyed, “The twins are still at their nap, Cait and Edie, however, are still playing. Methinks they have outgrown their daily rest.”  
They all looked up when the front door opened and into the dining room trooped Silas, Gunnar and Fen, holding two gutted rabbits apiece by their long ears.  
“For stew tomorrow!” Fen cried, holding up his catch, grinning widely.  
“By the gods! What are you about bringing your catch in here?” Helgi waved at them, “Get those carcasses into the kitchen to Gretten before you drip offal on the floor.”   
“Forgive me,” Silas bowed, “I tried to warn them but they wanted to show off their skill.”  
Fen and Gunnar ran off to the kitchen while Silas walked over to Ingrid, brushing a kiss upon her cheek, “I shall bring our take home and skin them. Two for roasting, the other two for drying. I will hang them in the root cellar and then I must return to the palace tonight to stand guard at a marking ceremony.”  
Fen rushed back into the dining room, “Mama, might I go with them for a bit?”  
“If you do, you must remember to be home by the evening meal tonight. We celebrate Brenna's birthing day.”   
“I promise I will be back even if it is only for my sister.”  
“Worm!” Brenna shot, sticking out her tongue at him, “Stay away till the world's end for all I care!”  
“I shall make sure he returns in short order,” Silas put a hand on Fen's shoulder, cutting his laughter short.  
All at once, Beth poked her head out of the kitchen, “Brenna, what's your favorite color?”  
Brenna looked up, “Red.”  
“I'll figure something out....,” Beth pursed her lips tightly, her brows furrowing as she ducked back into the kitchen.  
Eidra glanced over her shoulder, then across the table at Brenna, “What an odd question.”  
Brenna giggled, “Not if you are making a birthing day cake...you shall see, Mama, you shall see.”

 

The filly balked again, digging her hooves into the dirt of the roadway. It took no small amount of coaxing to get her moving along until at last he let her trot forward so she felt in control.  
“She's a right fit for Brenna...as stubborn and headstrong...begging yer pardon,” Colin nodded to Loki.  
“No, you are quite astute,” he let the filly's reins slacken in his hand as Lightning pawed the ground, eager to be off, “She is my jewel but she has given me more than a few gray hairs in her time.”  
The filly came even with Agathon who turned his head to nip at her flank.  
“Hey, that's no way to treat a lady,” Colin yanked on his reins, watching the horse's ears flatten back, irritated, “give her a chance, she might grow on you.”  
On the trip home they would pass little farms, cottages the few people they encountered bowing low, waving to them.  
Colin couldn't help notice that Loki had been quiet for some time now and he rubbed the back of his neck, nodding at the filly, “She's a fine gift. Brenna will be thrilled.”  
“ 'Twill not keep her home, however,” Loki gave the horse a sad smile.  
There it was.  
“Yer worried about Brenna going back to Midgard next month, aren't you.”  
Loki pulled Lightning up short, forcing Colin to do the same, anxiety written clearly upon his features..  
“You cannot know how many nights I have lain awake beside Eidra, staring into the darkness, thinking of schemes, plans, promises I could make to convince her to give up her dream of continuing on with her Midgardian education. I would build her a house, find her a husband equal to her status, let her come to the palace with me every day but none of it matters to her now. Just last evening she brought me some parchments to sign. She said they were from the house of learning where she would be attending and she would bring them with her when next she went to visit Sophie. What is a father to do?”  
“You should talk to my Da,” Colin laughed, “The day before I went to Dublin to be sworn in as an agent, me Ma hid me bags, claimed she couldn't find where she'd put them. Almost made me miss the train until Da produced them from the hall closet. What a father does is let his child go. Let her do what she must. Eventually she'll come back.”  
Loki looked up the road leading to the manor, “Welcoming her home is the easy part, saying goodbye is impossible.”  
Colin spurred Agathon forward, “Well soonest begun is soonest done. Maybe she'll change her mind. After all, nothing is forever.”  
“May the gods hear and heed your prediction,” Loki fell in step beside him as Colin nodded, “Agreed.”

 

Loki had shown Brenna the horse as soon as they arrived at the manor. She named the horse Willow, on the spot, her joy boundless at the gift of such a pretty filly. If the ride home with Agathon and Lightning had not already emphasized her opinion of stallions, her reception of Brenna did, taking to her right away, butting her brown and white head against Brenna's arm to garner her attention, shivering happily when Eidra scratched her neck. Willow was most definitely a feminist.   
Thereafter, they'd retreated inside to where the evening meal was waiting, offering toasts to the woman of the day, Brenna, stuffing themselves with the fine dinner, talking and laughing. When Beth brought the birthday cake to the table everyone showered her with compliments. It was beautifully done in white with crimson flowers Beth had confessed to struggling with to the point of tears. Brenna instigated a frosting fight which had everyone crying with laughter. At one point, Colin had looked about the table and spied his infrequent visitor, Chris, in one of the chairs observing the family fun with a mournful smile on his face.   
When at last he caught Colin's gaze, he'd given him a wave then gestured to Brenna though Colin wasn't exactly sure what he was on about. When he looked back to Chris however, he had disappeared. Colin shrugged, putting the incident out of his head, caught up in the merriment.   
Finally it was time for gifts. Colin patted the little parcel hidden in his lap. After his talk with Loki earlier, he almost decided against giving it to her but in the end he handed her the little parcel which she unwrapped it to find a new quill, her name in Asgardian carved into the wooden handle and a new inkwell, ivy leaves and flowers etched into the side.  
“I know everyone is all about their tablets and electronics on Midgard but I figured you might write a letter or two to send home,” Colin reasoned, purposely not looking at Loki as she wrapped the gift back into its parcel and thanked him with a hug.  
As the table was being cleared of the remains of the meal, Colin offered her his arm.   
“Why don't we go have a good look at your new ride?”  
They glanced about the room. Loki and Eidra had retired to their chairs by the fireplace in the sitting room, joined by Helgi, Ingrid and the children. Fen and Gunnar had trotted off outside to make the most of the waning light.  
“Lead the way,” she nodded toward the door.

 

 

_Assignment: 64379-01  
Location: Asgard _

_Agent: Colin M. Denehy  
Date: 8/11/29_

_Wherefore is it written that the pendulum must swing back and forth. Why can it not stay still? Because then it would merely be a stick with a circle at the end. Having given the sign language manual to Ingrid with Silas's approval, I've seen little Edie fair blossom into a chatterbox if you will. We've all of us had to learn a rudimentary grasp of signing because she is relentless in the best way possible. Silas has altered his perception of me and now treats me as an honored guest though I've yet to achieve family status with him and that's fine. It's an achievement simply to be greeted with a name instead of a grunt. He no longer speaks to me through Loki or the others, including me in conversations when I'm present. The sweet, however, must be balanced with the bitter.  
I have good reason to hope this journal won't need to be referenced for anything until long after I've shuffled off this mortal coil. My visitor from beyond the veil, Chris, had urged me to speak with Brenna about something that was upsetting her. I refused at first, telling him counseling wasn't part of my job description but he kept on insisting until finally, one evening, after her birthday dinner, in point of fact, I asked if she wanted to take a walk. It had cooled considerably and we talked about the upcoming portal activation, the next festival on the calendar, you know, a lot of shite until I mustered up the courage to ask her outright what was wrong. Imagine my great shock when she burst forth about the whole trip to Midgard to get Brynn's medicine with Stark and the tests she'd been subjected to by Doc Banner, reassuring me that they were going to keep an eye on the tumor they'd found in her head.   
When I told her I was going to give Stark an earful about the very dangerous stunt he'd pulled by subjecting her to testing without Loki's approval or permission, she begged me not to say anything to anyone. She was of a mind her father wouldn't process the revelation in a rational fashion what with the stress of the new Midgardian presence. I allowed as he would likely have a meltdown so when I persisted in my intent to speak with Stark, she then had the misfortune to ask me, 'Why are you so concerned with my well being?'  
Once again I could hear my grandad sigh, “Boyo, yer gonna get yer arse broke one day with that mouth o' yers,” as I told Brenna I was fond of her, wanted to bite my tongue in half as soon as the words were out of my mouth but there was nothing to be done for it. She stared at me for a very long time, her hands clapped over her mouth. I couldn't tell if she was angry or disgusted or happy. At last, she put her hands on my shoulders, telling me she was quite fond of me as well though she was sorry her feelings were more that of a sister toward a brother, apologizing over and over again. Didn't I feel like the fool of the world? I assured her the fault was all mine, blaming my sentimentality on the clean living, the feeling I was starting to belong to which she then informed me in no uncertain terms that I was most definitely part of the family. Though we agreed both to keep our secrets hers is far more serious than mine and I feel a certain duty to protect her.  
Ah me, though I feel at home here, I've considered returning to Earth because one day I will want to stay here and instead will find myself back in Helen's Bay, faced once more with the prospect of my lonely lackluster bachelor's life. Maybe Asgard is trying to teach me how to live. I've a little under two thirds of a year to learn my lesson well._

 

The solid clop of horses hooves in the distance mingled with faint voices floated on the warm breeze. Brenna glanced down the lane toward the stables.  
“Bren, lift up your end higher, I do not wish to wash these linens twice in one day!”   
Brenna shot her hands up in the air, holding the linen sheets high, “Sorry, Mama.”  
“I am surprised you are still here,” Eidra took a clothespin from the basket in Helgi's lap, “Do you not wish to go to the palace today?”  
The hoofbeats were growing louder, “Not today, Mama. I wish to stay here.”  
Eidra glanced around the linen sheet half hung on the line, “Look at the dust they stir up. They should slow their pace or they shall be doing the laundry come next wash day. We are in dire need of a good soaking rain to damp down the dirt.”  
Brenna kept her attention on the sheet in her hands as she heard the horses come to a stop at the edge of the yard. A moment later, her father strode past her to peek around the sheet, averting her eyes to the ground as he grabbed her mother around the waist and twirled her about as she squealed with laughter.  
“Loki! Gods you are a rogue! I thought you would have been off long before now.”  
Brenna turned her head ever so slightly, spying Silas and Colin atop the other two horses to her right, waiting for her father.   
“It was my intention, however I discovered Lightning had developed a sore on his right foreleg. I washed it and wrapped it with linen. I will bring home a poultice for him. I had to saddle Agathon instead.”  
Brenna could feel Colin staring at her back. She felt worse than she had two days ago. It had broken her heart to rebuff him and she had pondered introducing him to some of the ladies at court. He was a good man, a very good man in fact. She was immensely fond of him but her feelings extended no further than friendship however, she was irritated as well. His confession had driven right from her mind all thoughts of confronting him about speaking to thin air in his bedroom. She considered asking him straight away but thought better of it as she saw her father kiss her mother on the forehead.  
“We shall be back for the evening meal, on my honor.”  
“Papa!”   
Cait and Astrid tumbled through the kitchen door into the yard to clutch at Loki's legs.  
“Might we go with you today?”  
“Not today. I have much to do,” he lifted Astrid up as Eidra took Cait's hand, “I should have been gone before now.”  
“ 'Twas you who stopped to play the rogue with me,” Eidra giggled as he affected chagrin, kissed Astrid on the cheek and set her down.  
“My little sparrow would not deny me so,” Loki cooed, stroking Astrid's cheek, “She loves me does she not?”  
Astrid's raven curls bounced about as she nodded, “Bring me a sweet, Papa!”  
“A stick of barley sugar perhaps, we will see.”  
Loki leaned closer to Eidra, whispered something in her ear and she glanced toward the house. “I will talk with him later. Do not be too harsh with the boy, he is nervous.”  
Brenna had fetched a clothespin from Helgi's lap, fixing up her end of the sheet, now she nodded to her father as he started for his horse. He veered suddenly, kissed the top of her head, his hand at her chin.  
“You wish to stay home today?”  
“I do,” Brenna summoned a smile to her face, “I will help about the house. I promised Cait I would plait her hair today.”  
Loki stepped back to stare at her, “Are you well?”  
Hearing the mirth in his voice, she nodded, “I am fine, Papa. May you have a safe journey.”  
He lingered a moment longer, his eyes searching her face, “Very well. If you have need to speak with me, I will be at your service this evening.”  
Brenna returned a wave from Colin as before the trio started off, watching them out of sight down the lane to the road.  
“Bren, hand me another sheet will you,” Eidra called to her.  
She turned about taking one end of the sheet from the basket, feeling not much better than she had before.


	21. 21

After seeing Colin off at the crossroads on his way to the longhouses, Loki and Silas continued on to the city. When they reached the south courtyard, the air seemed charged with excitement. They dismounted, handing the reins to the waiting servants and trotting up the steps to the palace doors. As they passed through into the palace proper, one of the royal guards stepped up to them.  
“Your Highness. The King has requested you be brought to the royal chambers immediately upon your arrival.”  
“What has happened. Is all well?” Loki glanced at Silas then to the guardsman who shifted nervously from foot to foot.  
“I do not know but that I am under orders to see that you reach the chamber unimpeded.”  
“I will take my leave, your Highness,” Silas bowed, “Until you have need of me.”  
Loki started off behind the guard turning in his mind over and again what Thor could want with him.  
“He is not ill?”  
“No, your Highness.”  
“The queen, is she ill?”  
“No, your Highness. He would tell me nothing except to bring you to him.”  
The guard knocked on the bedchamber door but once, backing away when it was thrown open and Thor leaped into the corridor, embracing Loki in a great bear hug.  
“My brother! My dear, dear brother!”  
Loki tried vainly to break free from Thor's grip, “Who else, the Gods wept, did you not send for me?”  
Thor let him loose, waving to the guard, “Thank you Viggo, you are dismissed.”  
The guard bowed once, trotting off down the corridor as Thor dragged Loki into the bedchamber and closed the door behind him.  
Loki nodded to Jane who was sitting on the bed, braiding her hair. She returned the nod with a sigh as Thor crawled onto the bed beside her lay his head on her shoulder.   
“Might I tell him now, my little doe?”  
Loki felt his heart start to pound as Jane turned her head, pressing a kiss at the corner of Thor's mouth.  
“By all means. You are the King.”  
Thor hopped off the bed and took Loki by the shoulders, “Loki, we have been blessed. At last we have been blessed! The kingdom may finally rejoice. Jane is with child!”  
If Thor had not been gripping him so tightly, he would have slid to the floor. His legs felt unhinged as he grabbed Thor's arms to steady himself.  
“Is this true?” Loki stared at Jane who crossed her arms over her stomach and gazed up at Thor .   
“Yes, and you were the first person he wished to tell.”  
“An heir!” Thor cried, shaking him. “An heir for Asgard at long last! I had begun to fear this day would never come!”  
Loki stumbled backward as Thor let him go and strode across the room through the columns to the balcony.  
“I shall announce the joyous news to the kingdom on the morrow. Send couriers across the lands.”  
“I told him we should wait at least another month. I don't want to jinx it,” Jane stood from the bed. Watching her, Loki thought he could see the barest rounding of her belly, wondered even now how he had missed it. Before Thor mistook his silence for contempt, he approached Jane, bowed and took her hand, brushing it with his lips.  
“Your Majesty, your condition becomes you. My sincerest congratulations at this happiest occasion.”  
He stood straight again to see Jane smiling at him, though her eyes belied a mistrust he, in all her time on Asgard, had not been able to dispel.   
“You must be here in the morn to witness the announcement,” Thor called from the balcony, “I wish my family at my side.”  
“Then mother and father know as well?”  
“I am going to tell them now. I wished your ears the first to hear the news. Are you truly happy for me?”  
Loki forced his feet forward, grasping his brother's forearm in a tight grip, “Your joy is my joy.”  
“Come then,” Thor's grin grew wider, “Let us find mother.”  
Thor offered Jane his arm as they headed out into the corridor, Loki following behind, silent, sick at heart, thinking of Fen's declaration sitting at the bottom of the wardrobe as it had for the past few seasons, of Eidra and his yearn for another baby and for the first time in ages, he had no words.

 

Eidra shifted Astrid to a more comfortable position in her lap as Astrid spooned her custard into her mouth. Beside them sat Loki, speaking quietly with Cait. He had been trying to teach her the light spell for some time now and she seemed to be gaining a keen grasp on it judging by the the faint glow hovering over the palm of her hand. The evening meal had been oddly quiet though with the usual disturbances, Fen and Brynn making faces at one another across the table, Astrid wanting to be the central focus of Eidra's world, Brenna picking at her food, mirroring Colin a couple chairs down from her, however it was Loki who had her completely flummoxed.   
He'd come home, given her a peck on the cheek and sat down at the table. He would often talk of the day's events, or ask Colin about the progress on the portals but tonight he was mostly silent, nursing the mug of ale in hand, looking about the room at nothing in particular while Hal and Vesta served the meal.  
When Astrid lifted her little pewter cup, announcing, “All gone!” Loki pushed away from the table and lifted Cait from her chair.  
“Where are you going?” Eidra set Astrid down on the floor as Loki guided Cait toward the kitchen.  
“Outside to let Cait try her first spell.”   
Before Eidra could reply, Astrid, Brynn and Fen were already on their feet, hurrying to catch up.   
“Teach me next, Papa!” Astrid cried as Brynn interjected, “No! Me first!”  
Colin stood up with a nod as he headed for the kitchen door, “Her first spell. Quite the occasion, I'd say.”  
Eidra watched the rest of the table enpty as Helgi, Beth and Brenna rose to follow him and she looked about at the empty room with a sigh.  
When she reached the kitchen doorway, she could just make out silhouettes in the rising moonlight as Cait's voice cut through the darkness, _“En varm lys til å lyse min vei”_  
An orange ball sprang sputtering to life in her hands, snapping and flaring like the ember from a fire.  
“Papa! I did it!”, she danced back and forth from one foot to the other.  
Everyone clapped, cheered as the warm glow intensified and Loki looked up to the doorway where Eidra stood. When their eyes locked, she shivered at the implication, at once gauging his mood.  
“And now it is time for bed,” Loki put a hand on Cait's shoulder, “Light the way.”  
Astrid and Brynn had set to whining by then but Helgi and Brenna were herding them up the back steps into the kitchen, impervious to their pleas.  
“Mayhap sometime you'll teach me?” Colin laughed as they stepped inside.  
“I do not believe it is possible,” Loki shrugged, “..but nothing was lost by trying.”  
“Aye, some other time then. Excuse me while I take my cue from the wee ones and bid you good night,” with a bow to Eidra then to Loki, he headed out of the kitchen and then they were alone.  
“I will help with the twins. Will you come to bed soon?”  
“Yes, my heart,” he answered but when they reached the dining hall, he sat down again at the table, chin propped on his hand.  
Eidra paused in the foyer where she could still see him, thought of returning to his side, letting Helgi and Brenna settle the children but was loathe to intrude upon his thoughts and so headed up the stairs.

 

She was at the edge of sleep when the creak of the boards at the top of the landing pushed through her dreams. She'd helped the children bed down for the night and retired to the bedchamber where she sat up in bed, knitting by the light of the lantern until her eyes would no longer stay open. At last, she had turned the lantern low and laid down to wait for Loki.  
She felt the air ruffle the covers as he swung the door wide, heard the dressing table chair scrape across the floor. Even though she lay facing away from him, she knew he had stayed downstairs to drink, could hear it in the way he dropped his boots to the side, his uneven footsteps, the thunk of his hand on the handle of the wardrobe door as he reached for a robe. She would surely find a bottle of wine, empty, on the table in the morning.   
The bed sank sharply as he knelt beside her, put his hand on her shoulder and planted a kiss on her temple. She reached up with her hand to touch his cheek, felt the stubble he would remove come morning and the kiss upon her palm as he pushed her to her back.  
Their coupling would be clumsy, rough. The anticipation, the heat of lust caught the breath in her throat as she reached for the hem of his robe, the desperate need to give herself to him like a thing intangible that would disappear if she hesitated.  
He slid his hands along her waist, raising her gown to bunch beneath her breasts, dipping to nip at her shoulder. She winced, spread her hands across his chest as he dropped one knee between her legs to part them, moved to grasp her thighs. So tight was his grip, she feared he would leave bruises but when she endeavored to move his hands he abruptly took her by the wrists, shoving her hands to the side as he lunged forward to cover her, pressing the air from her lungs with a whoosh.  
She could do little but gasp as he drove himself into her, throwing her head back to the pillow in an abandon of passion, his kisses at her throat, an urgent tug at one nipple and she turned her head, pressing her mouth to his shoulder to stifle a yelp.  
She looked up at his face as he rose above her, half in darkness in the dim lantern light, wanted to take his face in her hands though he held them firm above her head.  
“Long enough,” he rasped, “we have waited long enough for another child.”

Her body stiffened. Before when they would wrestle in play, laughing until they were breathless, she had struggled against him and there had been times when she would actually gain the upper hand though not for long. If he were so determined, he could easily overpower her. Now, however, she wrested one wrist free in a burst of strength born by terror, to push against his shoulder.  
“Loki, no please!” she hissed, “Not now!”  
She half expected him to stop, made to straighten her legs but he crooked an elbow beneath one knee, lifting it in the air, twisting her at an awkward angle.  
“It is my will!” he grunted and before she could speak again, he clamped his other hand over her mouth.   
Panic at alst set in and she threw her body from side to side with a rush of adrenaline. When his hand slipped from her mouth to pin her shoulder down, she raked her fingernails across his cheek.  
“Gods! Stop fighting me!” he roared, reaching for her arm to pin her again.   
“You cannot do this!” she cried  
Taking advantage of his instability, shoving her heel into the mattress with all her might, she heaved herself sideways, feeling him withdraw from her as he tumbled over beside her onto the bed. “You cannot do this!” she wailed, flipping over to her stomach, scrambling to put distance between them. She had nearly made the other side of the bed when the hen of her nightgown was given a violent jerk backwards and she shrieked as his weight pinned her forward to the mattress.  
““Woman! By the Gods! What has come over you?” he hissed in her ear.  
He was irate, confused and she knew she could no longer keep her secret from him.  
“I cannot have another child!” she screamed, “I cannot, I beg of you listen to me!”

 

Fen jerked awake, sat up straight in bed, listening. When no other sounds met his ears, he lay back down on his pillow, sure he'd been dreaming until a shriek set his feet on the floorboards. He dashed to the bedchamber door and peered into the gloom of the hallway. A shaft of moonlight sliced through the darkness, falling at the threshold of Brenna's room where she stood half out, staring at him.  
“Did you hear someone scream?” he whispered.  
Brenna held a finger to her lips, “Would I be standing here if I did not? Follow me.”  
Another shout made Fen grab for Brenna's arm as they looked toward the door to their parent's bedchamber. The door across the hall creaked open and Cait poked her head out, eyes wide.  
“What is wrong?”  
Brenna waved to her, “Nothing is wrong, go back to your bed,”   
But as Brenna made to advance toward her parents bedchamber door, Cait rushed across the hall to wrap herself around Brenna's arm.  
“Do not leave me here alone.”   
“Very well but you must be quiet.”  
Cait's answer was to grip her arm harder and they started for the door again.

 

“Do you no longer desire me?! Do you no longer love me?!”  
She was hurt, angry, even a bit frightened but she shook her head violently, “How can you think such terrible things?”  
She stared across the bed where he now stood opposite, breathless. A thin scrape ran even with his jawline where she had scratched him. Even now she wanted to dab at it with the sleeve of her nightgown but she dared not approach him.   
His mouth dropped open as he gestured wildly at the bed, “You fair tore from me as if I meant to kill you!”  
“I was afraid...”  
“Afraid of me? What is there to fear...?”  
They were now shouting back and forth. She was certain the children, nay the entire household was now privy to their argument. She felt sick to her stomach.  
“You forced yourself upon me! You said it was your will that we have another child but I tell you I cannot. I love you, I desire you I swear it, nothing would turn me from you, not even death, you know this but I must confess to you something I have kept secret for far too long!”  
She watched him sway, lean forward to put his hands on the bed though she couldn't tell whether from her revelation or the wine.  
“When you returned to me after our separation over Brynn's medication, I became pregnant again. I did not want to tell you for fear something would happen and my fears were soon visited upon me when you were away at court for a few days. I awoke one night drenched in blood, pain so great I could not move...”  
“Gods...!” He struck the coverlet, the resulting thump echoing the anguish in his face.  
“...I begged Brenna to bring me to Midgard, so terrified was I. She did so, bringing me to the Midgardian hospital where Cait was born....,” she clasped her hands together before her as Loki knelt beside the bed, “There I was told I had lost yet another baby...”  
“Why did you not send for a physician here? Why to Midgard?!”  
After the trauma of Brenna's abduction and rescue, Loki's mistrust in Midgard as a whole had returned with a vengeance but this was too much to bear.  
“Would you rather I had stayed here to die?” Eidra cried, taking a step back as he shot to his feet, “What if I had bled to death, would you feel vindicated then?”

 

Brenna felt the urge to clamp her hands over Cait's ears but she was afraid to move as they stood listening. Cait kept tugging on Brenna's sleeve and whimpering until she hefted her into her arms though the six year old was getting too heavy to carry for long.  
“Shh,” Brenna whispered.

 

Loki was before her now and she let out a sob as she put a trembling hand to his chest.  
“The Midgardian physicians said I would be able to have no more children. I would not carry to term. The twins were too much for my body to handle...”  
“How can they know such things?” he roared, knocking her hand away, “They lie!”  
“Indeed, they did not. They examined me. Stark saw I was tended to by the best physicians!...”  
“Examined you? They dared put their hands upon you?” Loki grabbed her by the arm, “And however did this prove you barren, tell me?”  
“I do not know, “ Eidra wailed, “I do not ken their ways of detecting such things. I only know what they told me. You had no problem when the Midgardian physicians helped deliver Cait, why would you turn so vilely against their help now?”   
Movement near the doorway caught Eidra's eye and her stomach sank, “Please you must believe me when I tell you I cannot bear to lose another child. I have lived with this burden for ages, fearful that you would be so afflicted..”  
“Mama?”  
Loki whirled about as Eidra sidled around him to where Brenna stood just inside the bedchamber, “Bren, please return to bed. Please.”  
“Fen and Cait are outside the door.” she whispered, her eyes widening then as her father strode toward her. Eidra peered through the doorway to see a frightened Cait backed up to Fen's waist, gave her a nervous smile.  
“Take them with you. Tell them all is well.”  
But Brenna shook her head, facing her father as he stopped before her.  
“You brought your mother to Midgard alone and told me nothing of it?!”  
“Yes, I thought the situation warranted it. I am glad I was here in your stead!” Brenna glared at him, “I would have expected your opinion of Midgard had changed but you only accept the realm when it suits you!”  
Eidra marveled at Brenna's calm in the face of her father's anger, rejoicing in the knowledge she would never know the man Eidra had seen in the past. He stepped back from her to gaze about the room, her resolve seeming to break him. then with a snort, he pushed past them through the doorway into the hall where Eidra heard Cait cry, “Papa!” as he stumbled down the stairs, flinging the front door wide.  
“Damn him!” Brenna shouted as she rushed out of the bedchamber to the railing staring into the darkened empty foyer  
“Brenna, hold your tongue!” Eidra chided as she gathered Cait into her arms, stroking her hair. All at once Colin's door swung open and he rushed out, holding a lantern in his hand.  
“What the hell is going on? Is everyone okay?” he scanned the hallway, “It sounded like someone was being murdered out here.”  
“We are fine, Colin. 'Tis nothing.” Eidra started for Cait's bedchamber with her arm around the frightened child, “Truly.”  
Brenna headed for the stairs, “I am going to find him.”  
“No!” Eidra called to her, “Let him alone!”  
The sound of crying was now heard plainly, coming from the twins bedchamber. Brenna paused at the top step as Eidra canted her head toward the door, “Please take care of them while I see to Cait, Fen go help your sister.”  
When Eidra disappeared into Cait's room, Brenna looked down into the foyer once more and stamped her foot, at last turning about.  
Before she could cross the hallway Colin held out his hand to Brenna and she took it briefly.  
“Is everything alright? Be honest with me.”  
“It will be. My father has his bad days like everyone else. Do not judge him.” she clasped her hand over his, speaking with a conviction she did not quite feel, “Get to bed. All will be well in the morning.”  
She let his hand go and opened the door where they saw two frightened faces staring at them from one bed.  
“Here, take this,” Colin handed the lantern to her, “Those babies need a light to comfort them.”  
Brenna smiled, “Thank you, Colin, from my heart.”  
Colin stood by the door for a minute, listening to Brenna and Fen as they talked to the twins, then with a sigh, he headed back to his room.

Eidra heard hoofbeats dwindle away into the distance as she lay beside Cait, rubbing her back. He would likely be at the palace come dawn. She said a silent prayer he would return the next night. She couldn't bear another separation, neither could the children. When Cait's breathing slowed, became even, Eidra stopped rubbing and just let her hand rest on Cait's shoulder until she was sure she was asleep. Eidra rose then, going to Helgi's door, listening to hear her snoring. When she heard none, she opened the door slowly and looked inside.  
“Come here, poppet.” a soft voice came from the darkness, the slish of the coverlet being turned down.  
Eidra slid beneath the covers beside Helgi, feeling transported back to the palace in what seemed like a lifetime ago.  
“We have seen these fits before with him, they shall pass.”  
Eidra nodded, let Helgi draw her in. Out in the hallway, a door closed.  
“I told him I can have no more children.”  
“So I heard. He loves you, he will bear it.”  
Eidra breathed deeply, smelling rose water, yeast, liniment and it soothed her soul if not her mind, “The Midgardian presence in Asgard has changed him. He is greatly disturbed and it drives him to distraction. I would ask Thor to speak to him but he would be all the more angry knowing I spoke of our troubles.”  
“Do not make excuses for ill temperament. He is as every man is wont to be on occasion, a little boy disguised. Rest, we will have a fresh start in the morning.”  
Eidra's response was to curl into Helgi's arm, finding peace in the kiss planted upon her forehead.   
“Goodnight my child.”


	22. 22

“Yes, right there, oh that feels so gooood,” he gazed into the mirror hanging on the wall beside his bed to see Pepper smile as she worked the knots out of his back, “Is there nothing you can't do to perfection?”  
“Hmm, I suppose that would be a matter of opinion.”   
She leaned into his back with both knuckles and he winced, “......uhnn...and the only opinion that counts is mine.”  
He turned his attention to the Manhattan skyline outside the windows, “Why don't we head to Cali tomorrow....see how the renovations are going.”  
“You've got too much to do here,” he felt her weight leave his back.  
“And what about Asgard?” she purred as she flopped down onto the bed beside him.  
He pushed himself up onto his elbows, “What about it?”  
“If Asgard falls, the other realms will follow...look.”  
Pepper had extended her arm over her head to point at the windows. His gaze slid down her fingertip to find the scene outside the windows had transformed. His eyes wide, he leaped from the bed, stumbling to the windows to find a scene straight out of Dante's Inferno. He could almost imagine the hole in the sky above them had reopened as he stared about at the city in turmoil, buildings ablaze, emergency vehicles lining the streets, blinking red and blue like maniacal christmas lights, helicopters racing over the tops of the skyscrapers, the sound of distant gunfire audible even through the protective glass.  
“What the hell is going on?!” he cried, whirling around to face Pepper, “Jarvis, I need to suit up now....Jarvis?!”  
“It looks like operation “Controlled Chaos” wasn't so very well controlled after all..” Pepper glided over to him, “Sir...”

 

“Sir..”  
Tony woke with a start, his hand already beneath his pillow, fingers gripping the handle of his Glock.  
“Sir?”  
The voice came from outside his tent. One of the agents. Was it Benlaw?  
“Yeah,” he called as he pushed himself up to sit on the edge of his cot, “What is it? What's wrong?”  
The snaps on the tent flap popped open as Agent Benlaw , a young, skinny kid with brown hair, one of the first year greenhorns in the unit, poked his head inside, “Sorry to wake you up but I figured this was important enough. Um, you have a visitor.”  
He stood up, “One of ours?”  
The agent shook his head, seemed to struggle for words, “Oh...not one of us.....um...it's...he's....”  
“It's two in the morning, agent. Would you please wrap this up?” He rubbed his face as the agent pulled back the flap.  
“It's Loki, sir.”  
Tony felt a rush of adrenaline course down his spine and he thought of the gun beneath his pillow a few feet away though if life wasn't completely unfair, there would be no need for it.  
“What the hell is he doing here at this hour?” Tony leaned over to look past the agent but could see little beyond the solar lights on the poles at the entrance.  
“Well he said he wanted to talk to you. He's not really...uh...steady, sir.”  
“Steady? Are you saying he's drunk?”   
At the agent's nod, Tony put his hands atop his head. “Shit, what next. Show him inside and you know, stay in the area in case he decides to bug out on me okay? I don't want to tangle with him alone, not without my armor.”  
Benlaw nodded and let the tent flap drop only to have it shoved aside a moment later as Loki strode into the tent staring wild-eyed at Tony.  
“Welcome. Visiting hours are over for the evening but if you wish to make an appointment with my lovely secretary outside, I can see you first thing tomorrow. Set your sundial,” he extended his hand but Loki ignored it, only stood there, his lips curled into a snarl.  
Tony gestured to the chair at the end of his bed, never taking his eyes off Loki. “Have a seat. I got a few minutes before my next meeting. What can I help you with?”  
Loki stared at the chair then looked up at him, “Eidra!”  
“Excuse me....?”  
“You....you let your Midgardian butchers at my wife!” Loki advanced toward him, unsteady, “You kept her visit a secret from me!”  
Tony paused half a beat, his overworked mind finally grasping what Loki was alluding to.  
“Well yeah because she asked me to, made me promise in fact. Don't you think it'd be a little rude to break a promise? You guys gotta have a code of ethics don't you?” He put out his hand to Loki, intending to guide him to the chair before he fell over, measuring in his head how quickly he would be able to snatch the gun if Loki made a move for him but Loki stood there, unwilling to move.  
“What reason would you have to bring your barbaric physicians to treat my wife?”   
“You would rather I let her die?” Tony regarded him, “I can't believe that even from you.”  
The words seemed to stun Loki and Tony, taking advantage of his confusion, brought him to the chair where he sat down heavily, his hands dropping into his lap.  
“I didn't think so. Brenna brought Eidra to the hospital in New York and called me because she was scared out of her mind. I did what I knew was the right thing, I came to her aid. Now if you wanna fault me for that, go right ahead,” he sat down on the bed and waited for Loki to speak though when he did, it was without the considerable fire with which he'd entered the tent in the first place.  
“She has said she can have no more children. Why is this so?” Loki gazed at the woven mat that formed the floor of the tent.  
“Well I'm no doctor but I can tell you having five kids will wear a body down. According to the obstetrician, the twins took their toll on her,” Tony leaned forward, with his elbows on his knees, “But geez, listen. You've got five wonderful kids, I'm not sugar coating it. What you lack in diplomacy you make up for in genetics, that is unless they take after their mother.”  
Loki frowned, “It is in our nature to procreate. My greatest joy comes from creating a child with my love. My heart....”  
“And hey, I get that but did you ask her if she was okay with it because you know, nowadays with women's rights and all...” Tony jumped up from the bed and walked to his small work table, uncorking a bottle of wine which sat in the middle, “I'd offer you a drink but I think you've already taken care of that aspect.”  
“I did not need to ask her permission. It is the duty of a woman to bear her husband's children...”  
Tony stopped in mid-stride on his return to the cot. “Oh boy, you do know the barefoot and pregnant stuff went out with bra burning in the sixties....?”  
“Wha...”  
“Okay, the Asgardians might still believe in unequal rights but this is way different. It has nothing to do with wifely duty...Eidra gets pregnant again and it may kill her. Those aren't my words, those are the words of one of the top obstetricians in North America...geez, baby doctors, get the confused look off your face...wait is this the only reason you're here? Because your wife cock-blocked you?”  
Loki's face darkened and for a moment, he wondered if he had officially crossed the line, however, Loki looked down at his hands clasped before him.  
“I let the wine embolden me tonight.”  
Tony put a hand on his hip. “Look at us, both speaking the same language and yet neither of us make any sense.”  
Loki closed his eyes, “I was overzealous in my efforts to bed her.”  
“Well brother, I can tell you I've been there myself and in most cases I've paid a hefty price,” Tony winked at him, You're lucky you escaped with your nuts judging by the scratch on your face. Ever heard the saying “Don't shit where you eat”?”  
Loki sat quiet as Tony tipped the bottle to his lips. His next statement caused Tony to choke on his mouthful of Cabernet.   
“The Queen is with child.”  
“Jane?,” Tony coughed, sputtered, “No shit?” he plopped back down onto the cot with the bottle in his hand.  
“Indeed. There will soon be an heir to the throne of Asgard.”  
Tony raised an eyebrow, leaned forward. “Wonderful, Mazel Tov. When's the blessed event supposed to happen?”  
“I do not know,” Loki muttered.  
Tony tilted his head. “You sound pretty miserable. I thought that ship had sailed a long time ago.”  
Loki put his hands to his temples with a groan, “Do not use your Midgardian vernacular at times such as this. I have not the head for it.”  
Tony rolled his eyes, “Dumb it down? Alright. I did not think you were interested in the throne of Asgard any longer, how's that?”  
“Hah,” Loki grunted, “You know so little, Stark. Shall I tell you what troubles me? Why I am out of my bed at such a grave hour?”  
Tony swilled the wine about in the bottle, “You mean there's more? You haven't just been relegated to the couch? Okay, yeah. It would be nice to know the whole story, yeah. Can't help ya otherwise.”  
Loki waved a hand at him, sitting back in the chair. “Of what use would it be? You cannot possibly ken my dilemma. You have no children.”  
“Nope, not that I know of, anyway. Pepper and I have talked about it but...” he lay back on one elbow and gestured about the tent with the bottle, “Things always seem to get in the way.”  
“Then you would know nothing of watching a son grow into a fine man, to want something more for him than that which you had for yourself, to realize such a dream only to see it die.”  
“I'm not getting you,” Tony stifled a yawn, tomorrow was going to be a long day if he didn't get some more sleep.  
Loki put his hands to his face. “When Fen was but seven seasons, my brother was of a mind that he would never produce an heir. In the face of such a devastating revelation, he had written up a declaration that were something to happen to him, Fen would inherit the throne of Asgard.”  
“So you still have your eye on the throne?”  
Loki leaped from the chair though he nearly pitched forward to the carpet, “You do not ken! I should have known better than to come here! Bah! I do not know now why I remain!” he looked toward the tent flap.  
Tony had shoved his hand closer to the pillow, even now he could brush his fingertips along the barrel of the gun but he stayed seated on the cot, his face calm. “So then explain it to me. Pretend I'm just some dumb Midgardian fresh off the bridge.”  
“I have nothing to leave my children save the title of prince or princess, perhaps the manor or if my brother so wishes, a manor of their own when they come of age unless fate or chance delivers a royal match from another kingdom. Thor's child will be the next ruler of Asgard.”  
“Where I come from, being a prince or princess is a pretty big deal. Keep doing what you're doing is all I can tell you because you're obviously doing it right. You got five great kids who had to learn to be great somewhere. Enjoy them, watch them grow. Raise them to be good...Asgardians. Brenna is off to a fine start and Fen is on his way,” Tony tapped his temple, “Just tell me, though how does this have anything to do with what happened between you and Eidra? I mean I'm not trying to piss you off, I'm just a little lost.” Tony watched Loki sway back and forth then drop haphazardly into the chair again.  
“Regret, anger. I wished to say to my brother, I, too, am capable of producing an heir.”  
“I think he got the point after the twins.”  
Loki looked up through the vent hole of the tent. “Perhaps I also fear becoming old, useless.”  
Tony let out a roar that jerked Loki's head back to stare at him.  
“I'll be goddamned!” he was laughing so hard there were tears in his eyes, “Are you having a mid-life crisis? You are, aren't you? Oh shit I wish Pepper was here!” he rose from the cot and walked over to where Loki sat, placing the bottle of wine in his hand.  
“Drink up, my friend. Might I say as much as you hate Midgardians, you're like the rest of us, just as fallible as every carbon based life form.”  
Loki gave a snort of laughter and Tony half expected him to explode in a display of outrage but he merely took a long pull from the bottle, handing it back to him.  
“Explain..”  
Tony sat cross-legged on the floor in front of him. “When a man starts getting old, he looks back at the first half of his life and sees what he's done. Then he looks forward into the second half and sees how little time he has to do what's left and he panics, does some crazy shit then accepts fate. Some men even learn to be happy again.”  
Loki nodded, “Mid-life crisis, but I am nowhere near the middle of my life.”  
Tony though to mention the gray streaks in his hair but figured now definitely was not the right time. After all, he wasn't one to talk. He more than matched Loki, he saw it each day when he looked in the mirror.  
“How do you know?”  
Loki smiled weakly, “I suppose I do not,” he leaned forward in the chair and Tony looked up at him, “Brenna has a saying for what I am in...”  
Tony waited as Loki began to giggle, sitting back in the chair. “And that would be deep shit.”  
Tony stood up from the carpet and set the bottle back on the table, heard Loki moan into his hands.  
“Alright listen,” he took Loki's arm, hauling him from the chair, guiding him to the cot where he eased him down to sit. “I'm going to the lab for the night. If I were you there'd be no way I'd go back home to face Eidra until I was sober. ”   
“I must be at the palace in the morning for the announcement of Jane's...fattening...,” Loki snickered as he tipped sideways onto the pillow, “Then I shall needs return home to face the wrath of my wife...” another giggle as Tony pulled off first one of his boots, then the other, “She will surely...what is a good Midgardian term for one receiving a thorough hiding?”  
Tony brushed off his hands and stood up, “Bust your ass?”  
“Ha!” he laughed aloud, “Stark, I may never say this again. I will likely deny all if you take me to task about it as well. Still, you have done me a great service this night. I shall most assuredly return to my former melancholy on the morrow but I will not forget.”  
Tony nodded, “Geez, don't get all sappy. Get some sleep and next time, lay off the wine before bed.”

He looked up at the stars as he trudged down the path to the longhouses. He remembered the gun beneath his pillow just as he turned the door handle to step inside, looked over his shoulder at the distant rows of tents.  
“Ah, what the hell. I doubt he could draw a bead on me. In his condition, he'd probably shoot his foot off,” he muttered closing the door behind him.


	23. 23

On the way to the longhouses, a soft rain had started to fall, accompanied by a buffeting wind. Colin was grateful for the oilcloth coat he'd donned before leaving the manor or he would now be soaked to the bone. He unbuckled the flap of his satchel and drew out his tablet, giving the outstretched eaves of the longhouse the eye, patting Agathon on the neck.  
“Sorry, me boy. Stay undercover as best you can. I'll try to hurry.”   
Agathon's response was a shake of his massive head and a soft whicker as if to say, “Off with you now. 'Tis but a bit of rain.”  
When Colin walked into Longhouse 1, he spied Simon and Tony addressing a group of technicians who were standing around the base of the portal. Their proximity only served to accentuate its sheer size, the base had to be at least seven feet tall with a ramp leading up to the platform at the top. Sitting atop the base were six gunmetal gray cubes each about two feet across, three on either side of the platform. He moved closer to the edge of the group in order to hear what Tony was saying.  
“I want a thorough test run on the grid before we do an official power up next week. I want to know those banks are ready for the real deal. The last thing we need is to have them overload in the middle of a transfer,” Tony gave an imperceptible nod as Colin caught his eye, “Okay, you all have the rundown, the day has officially started. I expect the test results on my desk today before shift change.”   
As the technicians dispersed, Tony crooked a finger at Simon who rolled his eyes but remained at his side.  
“Well how's it looking?” Tony gestured to the portal, glancing at Colin who gazed up at the base.  
“I've no idea. For all I know, it's shite. You tell me. Remember, I'm not the scientist.”  
Tony draped his arm around Colin's shoulders, “Well I think it looks pretty damn spectacular. Come on up and check out the view.”  
Colin ascended the ramp behind Simon and Tony to stand at the top of the base surveying the lay of the longhouse, “You've all the bells and whistles here don't you.”  
“Most of it is Stark tech,” Tony put his hands on his hips, “With a bit of S.H.I.E.L.D gadgetry thrown in. That's on loan of course. Top secret.”  
At a raised eyebrow from Colin, Tony chuckled, “I'm just playing with you. I'll probably claim it was lost in transit. You guys got some cool shit too, maybe not as cool as my stuff...but close.”  
“I'm not S.H.I.E.L.D, remember. I'm the European division,” Colin muttered as he bent over to study the cubes. They shone like polished hematite, appeared seamless.  
“Same thing....those are electromagnetic conductors. They're heavy too,” Tony patted one of the cubes, a metallic ping resonating through the air from the ring on his finger, “Another reason why you don't want the power to suddenly cut out during a transfer. Trust me, you don't want these to fall on your head.”  
Colin held the tablet before him and pressed a corner of the screen, “And these cubes do what exactly?”  
“Theoretically, they will create a containment field for the portal....”  
“Theoretically?”  
“This is new technology therefore it works in theory. The testing phase is where we determine if the technology is sound,” Tony made an arc in the air with his hand, “They'll act like the circle in the middle of the Uruz. The portal can be enlarged or reduced, within a twenty foot radius, depending on the strength of the electromagnets. You'll see. You're going to be here when we power up aren't you?”  
“Oh, aye. I've got to record it all for the next report,” Colin took a few backward steps down the ramp and touched the screen again, holding the tablet out before him to snap a picture, “Are yer reports ready for me?”  
“Yeah the chip is in the office. Let's go get it.”  
As they started back down the ramp, Simon gave a loud sigh, “Do you still need me or am I excused?”  
“Look at him,” Tony slapped Simon on the shoulder, “So eager to get to work. I wish I had a million more like him. Go on, scurry away. There are formulas to be written, figures to figure.”  
“Colin,” Simon nodded before trotting down the ramp ahead of them.  
“I'll be blessed if I could ken any of this scientific guff,” Colin mused as they passed between the rows of tables, equipment, monitors on their way to Tony's office almost running into Tony as he stopped in his tracks  
“Ken? Son you're sounding like one of them.”  
“You pick up the language when yer anywhere long enough. It's also rooted in the Scottish and English language,” they resumed their forward motion as Tony craned his neck around.  
“How are things going with the landed gentry by the by? Better today?”  
Colin stared at his back, “What do you mean?”  
Tony opened the door to his office and stepped aside to let Colin in, “I mean Destructo. He didn't go home this morning?”  
“How the hell did you know he wasn't home last night?” Colin turned to him, arms folded.  
Tony smiled, sat down at his desk and slid open a drawer, “Prince Charming showed up trashed and angry at my tent about two a.m. and I had to talk him down.”  
Colin put a hand to his forehead, “Feck! I should've followed him. He give you any trouble did he?”  
Tony took a small gray drive out of the drawer and slid open a compartment on the top, popping a small microchip out of a slot, “Would we be here having this little chat if he had? Naw, we talked, he passed out on my cot and I came up here to the longhouse....ah damn, I remember. He had to be at the palace today first thing in the morning for Thor's announcement. Musta made it because he wasn't in my tent when I checked earlier.”   
He held out the microchip in his palm to Colin who was still standing there, perplexed.  
“What announcement? Could you fill me in please because apparently I know fuck all about what's going on!”  
Tony slid the tablet from Colin's hand and inserted the microchip in one of the slots in its side, the screen blinking to life as he handed it back.  
“He didn't tell the family about Jane? Excuse me, the Queen.”  
Colin took the tablet, “What about Jane? Bleedin' Christ! Spit it out!”  
“She's pregnant. She's gonna have a little heir. According to Loki, Fen would have inherited the throne if Jane wasn't able to have children but now that's all changed thus the reasons for Loki's meltdown..or at least one big reason. Told him he was having a mid-life crisis.”  
“Jane's going to have a baby? He didn't tell me. Nothing was mentioned this morning and Eidra stayed in her bedroom, wouldn't even come down to breakfast ...can't say as I blame her.   
“Well he's got a lot to fix when he gets home that's for sure.”  
Colin tapped the screen, “Aye, that he does.”

 

 

_'Blasted trumpets!'_  
The great square was packed with citizens who'd assembled at the calling of the palace heralds sent about the city at dawn. Loki scanned the crowd, glanced to his right at Thor and Jane, both smiling, Jane looking positively beatific. At the bottom of the palace steps, the trumpets sounded again.

The horizon had just started to lighten when he awoke in Stark's tent. He'd ridden hard to the palace, meeting Thor at the stables as he was on his way out for his morning ride. He chided Loki for his disheveled appearance, ordering him to the baths so he would be presentable for the Queen's announcement. When asked where Eidra was, he'd had to make up an excuse, telling Thor that Brynn was sick yet again so she'd opted to remain home to nurse him. Now, he stood nursing a headache, anxious to be headed home, irritated that his departure was at least half a day distant.  
A line of guards on horses had assembled at the bottom of the stone steps, their horses, stamping the cobbles, eager to run. Thor clapped his hands together as the echo of the trumpets died.  
“My subjects, citizens of Asgard!” he began, “I have summoned you here on a most auspicious occasion!”  
Loki frowned, felt a hand slip into the crook of his arm and a whisper at his ear, “My dear, let the people see you share your brother's joy. Surely you cannot begrudge him that which you have in abundance.”  
The comment brought back into focus the events of the previous evening and it was with monumental effort that he was able to bring a smile to his face.  
“You mistake my countenance for anger, mother. I am thinking of Brynn. Forgive me for my inattention.”  
Frigga gave his arm a squeeze, “We will see old Clotho before you return home, perhaps he has some elixirs for Brynn. Bring the children to visit before the next full moon. Your father has been talking of them when he is himself.”  
“I shall, mother.” Loki could see, in his mind's eye, Odin lying on his bed, soft music playing for him, fans pulled back and forth high overhead to ease the heat, the vacant look on the old man's face as he lived within his head, remembering glorious battles and grand feasts while summarily ignoring the world outside.  
“The time has come for rejoicing! The kingdom of Asgard will have an heir. The queen is with child!”  
A roar erupted from the crowd. People clamored forward, shouting blessings and hails as Thor continued.  
“The couriers before you will spread the word to every corner of the realm and beyond so that all of Asgard may join together to celebrate this happiest of events!”  
At yet another blast from the trumpets, the line of horses started forward, parting the crowds gathered in the square. There were cheers, clapping, made louder as Thor raised his arms in the air.  
Loki slipped into the shadows of the archway, praying for an end to the spectacle so that he might excuse himself. He could think of little else save Eidra and what had happened and how he had acted in front of the children. Why had Eirda kept such a secret from him? Did she not know how painful was the realization he would have no more children. Perhaps Brenna could be of help, perhaps she would be able to heal Eidra.  
At last Thor and Jane turned from the crowd to enter the palace and Loki, relieved, gave his arm to Frigga. Once the doors had closed behind them, Thor turned to Loki.  
“The feast tonight will be a grand affair.”  
“As always,” Loki forced a smile, “However, I must beg off.”  
“You cannot,” Thor frowned, “It is your duty to attend in celebration of the Queen's announcement. You must show solidarity, your support to the new heir. Please, brother. Share in my happiness.”  
Loki gritted his teeth, saw his mother's eyes widen as she gave a silent nod.  
He considered lying. Thought of agreeing to come and making an excuse for his absence later but Frigga's message could not be clearer.  
“Very well, since you doubt my loyalty..”  
“It is not I who would doubt it,” Thor took him by the shoulders, a pleading look in his eyes that seldom failed to sway, “but the Aesir. They are like chickens and hens, scratching about the ground for some morsel to cluck about, a chance for idle gossip. Give them reason to continue to trust you.”  
Loki bristled at the slight,“Then you must give me leave to fetch Eidra.”   
“By all means!” Thor released him, “Go at once, ready yourself and return before nightfall.”  
“Thank you, my gracious King,” He murmured, eager to leave, bowing as Thor and Jane continued down the corridor but Frigga remained, taking his face in her hands.  
“What a noble man you have become. You cannot know how I feared so for you in your youth. Now you have a family, friends, a good home and I may rest happy in the knowledge that my sons are united for the good of Asgard.”  
He put a hand atop hers and his heart broke at the frailty he felt beneath his fingers, “I, too, may rest happy that you are content, Mother.”  
She leaned in, bussing his cheek, “Go fetch Eidra and we will give thanks for Thor's good fortune.”

 

Despite being eager to return home, he took his time, rehearsing over and over again in his mind what he would say to Eidra, to the children. Oh the children. Cait who had shrunk from him as he stumbled out into the hallway. Brenna whom he half expected to follow him and Fen whose countenance wore such shock as he had never before seen. Then hearing the twins crying as he made the foyer. Astrid, his little sparrow. Poor sickly Brynn.  
The thought alone of facing them nearly turned him back toward the city but he set his jaw and continued on until he was at the lane leading to his doorstep, holding Lightning at bay; the horse knew where he was and that fresh hay and water lay only a few steps distant.  
All was silent. The day was at high heat. Everyone would likely be inside trying to keep cool. He took a deep breath at the last, letting Lightning have the reins.

Brenna set another beet into her basket as Beth gently dug around the next beet with her hands and a spade, trying not to gouge into its skin.  
“They're packed with fiber, you know. My grandpa always said they tasted better than a dish of stewed prunes and worked just as well.”  
“Mmm.”  
Brenna hadn't been able to fall back to sleep after her father had left and they'd settled the twins back down so she stayed up talking with Colin and Fen until dawn. Now she was tired, angry and though she liked Beth quite well, her mind was far afield.  
“They also have antioxidant and anti-inflammatory properties. The greens are a great source of lutein...”  
“Oh?”  
Beth shook the dirt off another beet and laid it in the basket, “I love the greens steamed.”  
“Mmmhmm.”  
“Do you have any glue, my nose fell off?”  
Brenna looked up at Beth, “What?”  
“Something my mother says when she knows we're not paying attention. Still thinking about last night?”  
Brenna gave her a wry smile, “Yes, I am sorry. I was up quite late.”  
“So we heard.”  
“Brenna bit her lip at Beth's slip of the tongue. Who else had she been listening with save Gretten? It was becoming increasingly obvious that Beth and Gretten were enamored of each other. Brenna had observed him kissing Beth's hand one night while they sat talking in the kitchen after the evening meal but she'd kept the stolen moment to herself along with the night she'd heard them whispering to each other in the darkness outside the back door into the yard. She felt compelled to remind Beth of the rules for her safety, yet at the same time, she felt protective towards their relationship. After all, what happened in private was their business and did they not deserve happiness no matter where it was found?  
“Forgive us. Our house is usually not in such a state of upheaval.”  
“Couples argue. It's nothing new, trust me. Just come to one of my family reunions. Uncle John and Aunt Marie get into it every year and they just had their golden wedding anniversary a couple years ago.”  
Brenna moved down the row of beets, “Agreed, but it is unusual for my father and mother to be at odds like this. He is under such stress with the Midgardians being here in Asgard, the building of the portal..”  
“Yeah we're a troublesome lot,” Beth mumbled as she took hold of another beet.  
Brenna shook her head, “I meant no disrespect. I suppose I think of you as one of us just as I do Colin. You've adapted quite well to the kitchen,” here she smiled at Beth who was now fighting to keep her own smile from surfacing.  
“It was a hard won fight. Gretten is so, well,.....grumpy. I think he's met his match though.”  
The clip clop of hooves stopped Brenna's reply as she straightened up, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand to see her father coming down the road toward the house and turn Lightning toward the stables. She rose to her feet, brushing the dirt from her hands,  
“Beth will you take the beets into the house for me? I would like to speak with my father.”  
Beth hauled herself up to stand beside Brenna, “Can I give you some advice?”  
“As long as you ken I may not take it.”  
“I'm sure you won't but there it is. Leave your parents to sort it out between themselves. Don't feel you know what's best and don't be too hard on him. I mean do you even know what the whole argument was about?”  
Brenna frowned, “I do not.”  
“Then let him talk, let her talk. Let things get sorted out.”  
“I will but I must say my piece first lest it fester in my heart.”  
Beth hefted the basket onto her hip with a grunt, “Alright, but not everything is black and white. Don't just talk, listen as well.”  
“I will to the best of my ability,” Brenna headed down the row of beets in the direction of the stable while Beth started for the manor.  
“Gonna cross my fingers.”

 

Loki closed the gate to Lightning's stall while Eldred ran to fetch water. He had hoped the stable boy wouldn't be there so he would have to tend to Lightning though he was only delaying the inevitable. At last he let go of the gate, pivoted about and stopped short. Brenna was standing in the stable doorway, hands on her hips. He swallowed hard, set his jaw and started toward her, keeping his stride even as he approached.  
“Where is your mother?”   
He made to walk past her as he spoke but she stepped in front of him. “Fortunately, she is in the house, though I am not sure I would have remained so were I her.”  
“Then I am most fortunate she is not of your mind, now if you will excuse me, I must fetch her.”  
He moved to the right but she matched him.  
“It is you who are fortunate she is a magnanimous woman for I would not have a man take me to task before my own children but that I would see him down the road!”  
“Mind your tongue. You speak too harshly on a subject you know little about.”  
“I know enough. I saw and heard more than I should ever want to for the rest of my days. You took great advantage of my mother, frightened your children to death and woke up the household with your....”  
“I had my reasons!” Loki cut her short, sidestepping her to set off for the manor though she kept on his heels.  
“Reasons? What reason would cause you to force yourself on my mother? To make her cry?”  
“It is between your mother and myself,” he growled. His stomach was turning, his face felt hot,   
Brenna grabbed his arm to slow him down, “And so it would have been had you not made us privy to your argument but you chose to make a drunken fool of yourself!”  
He stopped, turning so quickly, she nearly lost her footing as he reached in turn for her arm with a roar, “You do not ken! You are but a child! You think yourself old enough, you play at being an adult but you have not lived a tenth of your life! When you have given up everything for love, when you have married, had children, watched them die in your arms, before you, when you have had your hopes for their future crushed, then you may come to me on equal terms. Then you may demand an explanation, no sooner!”  
As soon as his words had faded to echoes, he wanted to take back every single one, tear out his tongue, sew his lips shut as he watched Brenna's face crumble, tears spill down her cheeks while she sought to wrest her arm free from his grip. He drew her to him even though she thrashed about, wrapping his arms around her with a groan.  
“Gods forgive me, Brenna. Please, forgive me. You are right. You, nay the whole of the household, your mother most of all, deserves to know what has driven me to act so disrespectfully.”  
Little by little she stopped struggling, finally burrowing her face into the front of his tunic. He put his hand atop her head, stroking her hair.  
“I feel old.”  
Brenna looked up at him, tears glittering in her eyes, “What foolishness. You are far from old.”   
“Hear me out,” he held up a hand as she stood back from him, “I had hopes that your brother would someday be king of Asgard. When you were on Midgard at school, in a rare moment of foresight, your uncle, fearing he would have no legitimate heir, wrote up a proclamation stating that if something were to happen to him, Fen would inherit the throne.”  
“The little worm, King of Asgard? Odin's beard!”  
Loki threw his hands in the air, “It matters little for now the proclamation means nothing. The queen is with child.”  
“Jane is having a baby!” Brenna cried, “You cannot be serious!”  
“I could not be more so.They announced it this morning. I have come from the palace. They are sending couriers across the land.”  
“And why has this announcement caused such an upset in you?”  
Loki glanced up at the manor, “Jealousy, I suppose. Your mother and I had talked of having another baby but she kept asking me to wait until I lost what good sense I had in a flagon of wine.”  
They started toward the manor together, “It was not fair of mother to withhold such a secret from you either. Both of you were at fault, should it not be easy to rectify?”  
Loki looked up at their bedchamber windows, “Stark claims I am having what the Midgardians call a mid-life crisis.”  
Brenna stopped, stared at him, mouth open, “You were not at the palace last evening?”  
“I was not. I rode to the longhouses.”  
“Why did you seek out Stark?”  
“I sought to confront him about his indiscretion but he spoke truth to me, gave me his cot in which to sleep. Do you know he sleeps with a Midgardian gun beneath his pillow. I should be grateful for his insight. He made me see reason, made me see I must cherish what I have, forget what I have not.”  
They had reached the back door into the kitchen where they paused.  
“I told you Tony is a wise man, “ Brenna nodded as he put his hand on the door frame.  
“But I feel so lost. I am a misplaced prince. What can I leave my children? What have I to offer them? What will they inherit?”  
“Papa!” Brenna cried, “You offer us yourself, your love, your time even if you must carve it out of the day with a knife! It is all we ask and it is what you have given. It is this which distressed me most of all. Open your eyes wider. You are as rich as any man if you do not count your wealth in gold but in family, friends, home,” she gestured at the door, “Make amends and be content.”  
Loki took hold of the door handle, “If you could have heard the speech you made now, four seasons ago, I wonder would you have thought yourself a fool to run away?”  
“Ha! I would likely have run faster and farther.”  
He opened the door for her. Inside he could see Gretten at the kitchen work table scowling at him.  
“May the Gods still my feet now.” he muttered to himself as he followed her inside.


	24. 24

Ingrid was sitting on the floor with Edie and the twins, watching them play when he entered the sitting room and she rose from the floor to curtsey, “Welcome home, Milord.  
“Papa! Oh Papa!” Astrid was on her feet at once, wrapping herself around his legs. Brynn was slower to move and he held back until Loki waved him over.  
“Are you angry with Mama?”Brynn whispered in his ear as he knelt down to gather them into his arms.  
“Of course not.”  
“They had a fight,” Brenna added, “Everything is better now.”  
Loki stood upright again though Astrid kept hold of his hand,“Where are Cait and Fen?”  
“Cait is with Eidra,” Ingrid pointed above her, “Fen is with Gunnar somewhere in the woods. They left this morning to fish.”  
Loki herded Astrid over to Ingrid, “Stay here, my little sparrow. I must speak with your mama alone.”  
“Will you not come back downstairs to play?” she whined.  
“On the morrow perhaps. Today your mother and I must return to the palace. Ingrid will take care of you this evening.” He glanced at Ingrid who had taken Astrid's hand and was now staring at the floor, her mouth drawn into a tight bow as large tears began to form in Astrid's eyes.  
“I want to stay up until you come home,” she pulled from Ingrid's grasp, returning to his legs, “Please Papa.”  
“We will be very late. You shall fall asleep long before we return but I will come and tell you we are home. I promise.”  
Edie patted her mother's leg, signing and pointing to Astrid, but Ingrid held up a hand to stop her.  
“What did she ask you, Ingrid?”   
Ingrid sighed, drawing her hand down her cheek as Edie peered at him, “She wished to know why Astrid was crying, Milord.”  
“Tell her she was happy to see me. Can you do this?” He steered Astrid back to Ingrid, nodding to Brenna as he started for the stairs, “Ignore any cries for help for they will surely be mine.”

 

“Your hair is become so long,” Eidra crossed another plait of hair into the middle of Cait's braid while the child stood by the side of the bed playing with her knit baby doll.   
“Mama the braid is too tight,” Cait whined, her effort to turn about thwarted by Eidra's hold on her hair.  
“Keep your head still. The braid must be a little snug or it shall unravel.”  
Cait huffed, stuck her tongue out at her doll, “Stop laughing at me, Hilde! Mama, Hilde thinks I look silly.”  
“Tell Hilde to keep her opinion to herself or I shall braid her hair too,” Eidra stuck her tongue out at the doll as well, making Cait giggle. At the creak of the stairs they both paused. Eidra felt Cait stiffen, clutching her doll to her chest as she turned to look up at Eidra. She knew it was Loki, knew the sound of his steps.  
“Mama,” Cait whispered, “I want to go downstairs and play with Edie now.”  
Eidra twisted her head back around, “Let me tie your braid first, then you may go.”  
She took a short length of red ribbon, wrapping it at the end of Cait's braid as Loki opened the bedchamber door and walked in. Cait gave a whimper, barely audible to all save Eidra.  
“There. Now you may go.”  
Cait held Hilde tight in the crook of her elbow as she broke free of Eidra's grasp, darting past Loki through the open door, her footfalls fast and heavy on the stairs.  
Eidra picked up the brush from the bed and brought it to her dressing table, glancing at his reflection in the mirror, however, she kept her eyes averted as she turned about again, choosing instead to stare out the window at the fields beyond the stable.  
She listened to him sigh, heard him shift about, grunt until she thought she would scream until at last he strode to the wardrobe, flinging the doors wide and stepping back.  
“You must choose a dress for this evening. We are expected at the palace tonight.”  
Instead of doing as she was bid, she walked to the wardrobe, took the doors and shut them again.  
“Eidra, please,” he groaned, “Pick out a dress, if not to please me then to please the King.”  
She whirled around to face him, incensed at being ordered about without so much as an inkling of an apology, “I do not care to please the King or his brother. For what in the nine realms are we needed at the palace?”  
“We are expected at a celebration!” Loki roared, immediately sorry as Eidra flinched, then stamped her foot.  
“Do not bellow at me! Do not come into this bedchamber as if nothing was wrong, command me about like a servant!”  
He flopped down upon their bed with a laugh, irritating Eidra further.  
“I find nothing funny about this. We must speak our minds.”  
Eidra had followed him to the bed and now stood before him. He leaned forward, put his arms around her waist, rested his forehead to her belly. She struggled to free herself for only a moment before giving a loud sigh, resting her hand atop his head, her fingers gently ruffling his hair.  
“Thor is to be a father again,” he murmured against her skirt, “Jane is with child.”  
He felt rather than heard Eidra gasp, “The heir he was hoping for, at last.”  
“And Fen's chances dashed to pieces.”  
Her hand slipped beneath his chin, pulling his face up to gaze into his eyes, “And this news made you act as if you'd gone mad?”  
“The wine made me lose my good sense. The news fueled the fire. I was jealous. I wanted Fen to ascend the throne.”  
“My heart, we knew this day would come. Whether the throne went to Lorioi or another was inevitable. Can you now tell me you were so surprised? I would rather Fen were left to live a quiet, normal life than live within the court where enemy and friend were indistinguishable one from another. ”  
“There is more to this than simply losing the chance to rule, Not only was such a dream lost but my brother would have another child when I had so long wished for another myself. It seemed so unfair. When you told me that you could have no more children, I was crushed.”  
She brushed a few stray strands of hair back from his brow and sat down beside him on the bed., “I cannot tell you how terrible it was to keep such a secret from you but I felt that you would no longer want me if you knew. Do you see then the fear with which I fought you last evening? It was not because I did not love you, certainly not because I did not desire you. I, too, wished for another child, you know it to be true. My joy is your joy, but I could not bear to lose another baby, my heart would break.”  
“As would mine but what foolish talk is this? I will ever be yours. My love for you is an unquenchable thirst, an endless yearn for your touch. Nothing will ever change this fact,” he put his arm around her waist, pulling her to lean against him, “Ere I ever come at you again as I did, strike me down.”  
“I shall do no such thing as long as you so promise to do as I ask, as we must.” Her hand slipped beneath his tunic to rest against his chest and he pressed it there.  
“You are my wife, my heart is yours. No more secrets between us now?”  
“No more secrets, I swear it,” Eidra shook her head, smiled as he lifted a hand to cup her chin.  
“Now choose a dress with all haste before my brother sends a contingent to fetch us.”  
“I will find a suitable gown while you make amends to Cait. She needs to be assured all is well.”  
Without another word, Loki kissed the top of Eidra's head, rose and strode out of the bedchamber, leaving her alone. She walked to the wardrobe, opened it, and stood there staring at her dresses, a hand to her stomach. There would be no more babies, not until Brenna or Fen married and gave them grandchildren. At once she felt profoundly sad. Never again would she feel life growing inside her, created through their love for each other. Never again would she watch Loki hold a squalling, wet newborn with tears of joy in his eyes. No more late evening feedings while she sang softly, the smell of new skin, the innocent wonder. She took a deep breath and began to rifle through the wardrobe, pushing her sadness away with each sweep of her hand.

 

He dropped the spoon into the wooden bowl with a clatter, setting it on the table before him.  
“I canna believe it, Gundrun. The king is goin' ta have a wee bairn!”  
Gundrun gave a nervous laugh, shifted in the rickety chair he'd set opposite Skiver, “Have you given a thought whether it be a prince or a princess?”  
Skiver clapped his ham hands together, rubbed them briskly, “Oh aye. The guards 'ave already been betting heavy. I've got me guess in.”  
“Oh.”  
Skiver eyed Gundrun, “ 'Ave ye not joined them?”  
“N..no.” Gundrun stirred the stew in his bowl as Skiver gave him a hard look. He was going to need to build the new recruit a spine if he was going to start working in the cells. He had size, to be sure, but that wouldn't be enough unless he knew how to use it, how to be big.  
As Gundrun began to hum to himself, Skiver rolled his eyes. He was going to have to sound big as well.  
“I'll see to it ye get in. Wouldna hurt to have a little extra coin in yer pocket now,” He pointed with a finger at Gundrun's bowl, “Are ye done chasing those potatoes around?”  
Gundrun set the bowl on the table and pushed it toward him, “You are welcome to it.”  
Skiver pulled the bowl to himself, “The King must be right pleased to be having an heir at last. Wee ones are a joy, Gundrun. Me oldest girl Atlea is goin' ta pop any day now. I'll be a grandad soon. First time.”  
Gundrun lifted his mug, “Here is to your first, Skiver, and to the King.”  
Skiver joined him, “And the wee babes to come.”  
He drained his mug in one draught, set it down heavy on the table and smiled at Gundrun.   
“The couriers have no reason ta visit down here. What say we tell the prisoners the happy news.”  
Gundrun peered down the torchlit corridor to his right, “All of them?”  
“Aye, all of them. Come now, they're behind iron bars. Ye've nothing to fear.”  
Skiver stood, touched his old leather belt to make sure the ring of keys was hanging there then started off down the row of cells, looking left and right. A little less than half the cells were full. The kingdom had been experiencing a bout of prosperity lately. There was the occasional petty thief, a few who'd thought to steal on a grander scale, a couple of murderers who would soon lose their heads in return for their crimes but, on the whole, business was slow. Skiver passed them by without a word. He was headed for one cell in particular.  
He stopped before the last cell in the corridor, took his keyring and tapped it on the bars. The face that slowly rose to glare at him was still beautiful, proud, though tempered with black rage. Sif stopped writing in the leather bound tome on the table before her, put the pen in the ink bottle and stood up.  
“What do you want with me?”  
“Oho!” Skiver cried, punching Gundrun in the arm, “Listen ta this will ye? Yer Majesty, I wish for an audience with yer royal self. I bring news from above.”  
She moved closer to the bars, her eyes glittering in the amber light, “News of my son?”  
“Her son,” Skiver chuckled though Gundrun backed away from the cell door, “Yer Majesty, I know naught about yer bastard, he enjoys the life of a prince...”  
“My son is not a bastard! I will see your tongue cut out one day for your slight,” she snarled at him, hands curved into talons before her.  
“Oho, will ye now? I doubt his Majesty will have time to grant your request for he'll be far too busy, ye see, the Queen is with child.I knew ye'd be wanting to know.”  
“NOO!” Sif shrieked, thrusting her hands between the bars in an effort to claw at him but Skiver had already stepped back, laughing hard enough to draw tears to his eyes.  
“Aye, yer Majesty. A _true_ heir to the throne of Asgard.”  
“YOU LIE!” she roared, rattling the cell door, “What about my SON!”  
“Yer bastard'll never sit on the throne. Ye know that as well as I. Blondie would see his brother king before yer precious boy.”  
“You whoreson!”Sif spat at him through the bars, “You LIE!”  
Skiver shook his head, “ 'Tis truth I tell ye. If ye wish, I'll fetch one o' the couriers to read the proclamation,” he bowed low, “Now I'll leave ye to yer writing. I'll be sure ta relay yer blessings to the royal family.”  
Her shrieks followed them back along the corridor. Gundrun kept looking over his shoulder as if he expected Sif to appear behind him but Skiver just kept walking, a smile on his ruddy face.

 

She leaned into the crook of Loki's arm, her head back upon his shoulder, soothed by the gentle sway of the wagon, the hypnotic shadows cast by the swinging lantern,   
The feast had been a lavish affair. Though the ale and wine flowed in abundance, Loki kept only to the mulled cider, a fact which caught Eidra's attention. She thought to mention it to him but Jane had drawn her away, commanding her attention for the better part of the evening, begging her help during the pregnancy.  
“This is my first baby. I'm so nervous, you can't imagine.”  
Eidra thought back to her pregnancy with Brenna, “Oh indeed I can.”  
She had promised to visit the palace more often, to show Jane what to expect, to prepare for the baby. Thor had even thanked her for easing Jane's fears. She envied Jane her good fortune but also was she glad Jane looked upon her well enough to seek her advice.   
“I should like to take a day with you before the harvest is full under way,” Loki murmured, bringing her back to the present.  
“Mmm, where?”  
“Our secret place? Or we could take a few days and visit Sally.”  
Eidra pulled his arm tighter about her, “Perhaps. We have had little time for outings. After the portal is built, we shall have less, I fear.”  
“The portal will bear close watching. We have had eyes on the longhouses from the beginning.”  
When they turned up the road to the manor, they saw the house was already dark save for a light that floated from window to window.  
“Hal has waited for us again,” Loki halted the wagon at the front door.  
The door opened and Hal appeared on the front steps with a lantern in his hand as if he'd heard his name, “Milord, Milady. Welcome home.”  
Loki gave Eidra his hand, helping her down from the wagon, “Good evening, Hal. Is everything alright?”  
“All is well, Milord. The children are abed. Mistress Astrid fought valiantly to stay awake but to no avail.”  
“I told her we would be late,” Loki nodded to Eidra, “I will see you inside, my dear.”

 

As he reached the top of the stairs, the creak of a door opening echoed in the hall and he stopped. He'd not had the chance to speak with Cait before he'd left to the feast with Eidra earlier that afternoon. He'd searched the manor for her only to be informed by Ingrid that she had disappeared outside with Edie. There was but time for a quick look about the grounds before he was compelled to leave for the palace.

He heard the staccato tread of little feet as he turned toward Cait's bedchamber, pushed the door open, holding the lantern high. Cait was burrowed beneath the coverlet, her eyes screwed shut.   
He reached down, brushed the hair from her face, saw her purse her lips together.  
“Gentle Cait,” he whispered, “Papa did not mean to frighten you so. I beg you to forgive me.”  
When Cait maintained her ruse, he sighed, bent down, kissed her forehead and turned to leave.  
Before he could make the door, he heard the rustle of the coverlet and a whisper, “Papa.”  
He spun about to see Cait sitting up in bed, her arms extended to him. He returned to the bedside and sat down wrapping his arms around her, feeling her own encircle his neck.  
“I love you, Papa,” she murmured in his ear, “I forgive you.”  
“And I love you, my brave girl.”  
She lay back down after a minute and he pulled the coverlet over her with another kiss goodnight, shutting her door as quietly as he could, prepared to head to his own bedchamber when he heard a voice behind him.  
“Is everything alright?”  
Loki raised the lantern, shining amber light on Fen's sleepy face, “Cait was up. I put her back to bed.”  
“Oh,” Fen yawned. As he started for his own room, Loki spoke up.  
“Did you catch any fish today?”  
Fen paused, looking over his shoulder, “Yes Papa, enough for Gretten to cook for the evening meal.”  
“Good,” Loki nodded, “ Very Good.”  
They stood staring at the floor, the silence between them growing awkward until Loki cleared his throat, “I might like to see where you catch fish in such abundance on the morrow.”  
“Do you not need to be at the palace?”  
Loki reached out, put a hand on Fen's shoulder, surprised at how tall he'd grown, “I needs must see that my son is ready to become a man. I have been to much absorbed with my own thoughts, my own fears. It is high time I returned to the present. One day away from court will matter little.”  
“What is there to fear?” Fen eyed him curiously.  
Loki could not stop the laughter that rose to his lips, “So much, my son. So very much. The disapproval of my children. The safety of Asgard, your sister's imminent departure for school on Midgard...so very much.”  
Fen glanced at Loki's bedchamber door where Eidra had appeared.  
“Have you made amends with Mama?”  
“He has indeed, young man,” Eidra interjected.  
A smile crept to Fen's face as Loki squeezed his shoulder, “I shall be up with the sun. Gretten will pack us a basket. I expect to come home with a large catch.”  
When Loki met Eidra at the doorway, she nudged him, “Oh dear. I suspect our jaunt will have to wait.”  
“We will have our time as well,” He purred, shutting the door behind them, “I promise but for now, you have my complete attention.”


	25. 25

Eris snorted, her eyes flying open as the loud bang invaded her dreams. She looked around the interior of the truck cab until her gaze settled on Joebo who wore a wide smile on his rugged face.  
“Those concrete slabs'll jar your teeth loose for sure.”  
Eris stretched her arms as high as they could go, watched Joe Bozeman, _'Joebo for short but y'all can call me anythin' you want, darlin',_ steal a glance at her chest. She was glad she'd chosen to wear her white lace halter top and short shorts. After all, they'd gotten her the ride.   
“MmmMMM, you're as pretty as you are talented.” Joebo slapped the steering wheel.  
Okay, maybe the blow job had helped.  
“How far out are we?” Eris pressed her nose to the window and peered into the darkness at the lights of a small town in the distance.  
“I'd say about an hour, roughly. This late at night, shouldn't be no trouble. We get off ninety-five, take the tunnel in. I gotta be at St. Luke's by midnight.”  
She pulled her legs up, tucked them beneath her, felt Joebo's hand on her thigh.  
“I still don't feel right settin' you down in the middle of New York. You sure you won't hole up with me until morning?”  
She shook her head, “I've got friends waiting on me. I'll be fine. Just drop me off on Tenth avenue.”  
She shifted position to get comfortable, felt the switchblade in her back pocket dig into her behind, shifted again. She would be just fine.

Eris shouldered her duffle bag as the semi pulled away with a short double honk and a wave out the window from Joebo. He'd repeated his offer, saying she could stay on with him a bit longer even as she was climbing down from the cab. He was cute, young, maybe in his thirties at best. No pot belly, wore a clean shirt, smelled nice too, not the type of truck driver she was used to. But there was no way in hell she was going to become a highway whore. She had big plans and they didn't include eighteen wheels. She had thanked him and sent him on his way.  
She scanned the street. People hurried about, talking to each other, talking to themselves, or not at all. A few of them stared at her but most simply ignored her. Alex had said her apartment was in a large brick building near Hell's Kitchen Park. She fished the piece of paper out of her front pocket, re-read the address and started walking.  
Nestled between a closed storefront with a blue and white “RETAIL SPACE FOR RENT” sign taped to the front window and a small head shop was a brown and green door leading into a small foyer, the muted thump thump of music drifting down from the floors overhead . There was a call board on one wall. She read the name tags in the narrow windows underneath the buttons until she came to a tag decorated with drawn blue stars around the name “A. Nettles”.   
She pressed the button beneath and waited. Pressed it again, once more. Finally she heard a click and a shout, “Who the hell is it?”  
In the background Eris could hear yells, laughter and loud music. “It's Eris.”  
“Who?”  
She turned around and read the number etched on the glass in the door frame. She was in the right place. She pressed the button and yelled.  
“Eris Carter!”  
The intercom stayed quiet. Alexis couldn't have moved within the space of a week could she? Who was she kidding. Alexis could move in the space of a day. It was the nature of their work. Always ready to run at a moment's notice.  
Abruptly the intercom clicked on and a voice shouted, “Shut up! Shut the fuck up! I can't hear a goddamn thing!” a pause as the background noise dropped by a fraction “.....who is this?”  
“It's Eris Carter, Jesus!”  
A scream erupted from the intercom, “ERIS! Shit, I'm sorry. Party at Nettles place and all that. Come on up!”  
There was a buzz and an electric snap from the door to her left. A party, damnit! She was exhausted. All she wanted to do was sleep but that was obviously not going to happen anytime soon. She picked up her dufflebag, opened the door and headed up a flight of narrow stairs on her way to the fourth floor.

The numbers, one-fourteen, had dropped off the door long ago, the space where they'd been painted in with black acrylic. Eris rapped sharply on the door with the end of her switchblade, hoping the sound would break through the loud music.  
There came the rapid slap of footsteps and the sound of locks being turned. The door flew open and a petite, beautiful woman with cinnamon colored hair, light brown eyes and skin the color of burnished copper flew at her. She dropped the duffle to the floor just in time to catch Alex in mid-air.  
Alex wrapped her legs around Eris's waist, arms around her neck in a death grip, a screech piercing the air, “EEERIS! Girl you are looking super fly! Oh my god I'm so glad to see you!”  
Alex dropped to the carpet and snatched up Eris's duffle bag, “Come on in, you gotta meet the gang!”  
Eris hung at the door frame, looking about the room, assessing the crowd of men and women dancing, laughing, lying around on the furniture. Empty liquor and beer bottles littered every available flat surface, the smell of weed hung heavy in the air. Well it wouldn't be the first time she'd seen the sun come up.

 

“Y'all are fuckin' nuts,” Alex gave Eris's arm a shove. The old leather couch they sat on was comfortable, almost too comfortable. She was in danger of nodding off.   
“I mean they gonna scramble your atoms and reassemble them in some fifth dimension? Like that Star Trek shit they pulling on the moon? You nuts...” Alex held out the clip, “Wanna hit?”  
“You know I don't go for that crap...”  
Alex shrugged, “More for me.”  
When she'd started her life on the street, running from the last foster home she swore she'd ever set foot in again, people had tried to ply her with drugs of all kinds. Pot being the easiest to procure, it was most prevalent. Wanting to fit in, she'd tried it once, spent two hours puking herself into dry heaves and had never touched it again. Maybe it had been the bottle of JD she'd drunk beforehand but somehow the pot ingrained itself in her mind as the culprit.   
“..and I am not nuts. I've got a plan.”  
A young man Alex had introduced as Dooley, flopped down beside Eris, “Does that plan include me?”  
“Oh of course,” Eris sneered, “Why do you think I came here?”  
Dooley snaked his bony arm around Eris's waist, “Aw you're so sweet!”  
“Fuck off!” Eris gave his arm a sharp pinch and he squealed.  
“Hey, why you gotta be such a bitch?”  
Alex leaned in front of Eris, “Dooley why don't you do somethin' useful? Get my girl here another JD and coke.”  
Dooley leaped up from the couch, shooting them the finger as he sauntered away, “Get it your fucking self.”  
“Asshole,” Alex muttered as Dooley knelt down to talk to a couple of women sitting on the floor in front of a coffee table.  
“It's okay, Al. I'm done drinking for the night. I keep it up and I'll sleep the day away tomorrow. I gotta be at the Marriott to check in by two.”  
Alex shook her head, “I still say you nuts. What you gonna do anyway? The news said they looking for people from all walks of life to spend a year in a pre-industrial society, whatever the hell that is.”  
Eris rolled her eyes, “It means there aren't any cell phones or stereos or computers. No electricity. No cars, trains, planes. Nothing modern. According to the papers I have, it's going to be like stepping back into the middle ages.”  
Alex sat up straight, “Oh fuck that! I give you a week and you gonna be begging them to send you home.”  
“You don't get it. I'm not going to walk to their drumbeats. I have an inside track.”  
She thought about telling Alex of the books sitting in her duffle bag, then changed her mind. She just didn't trust her former dancing colleague enough not to take them from her while she slept and try to pawn them for cash.  
“Inside track? What, you give a private lap dance to Tony Stark or something?”   
Alex giggled, flipped one leg up and straddling Eris lap, moving in a slow grind but Eris pushed her off in a pile onto the couch. Dooley whistled from across the room, “Oh god, looka them bitches, my boner's gonna blow out my jeans!”  
Eris ignored him, “I didn't do anything of the sort. Listen, I'm not going alone. I'll be with a group of people and you know how easy it is for me to get lost in a crowd. The minute they turn their heads, I'll disappear.”  
“You gonna play the mutant card, huh?”  
“Yep.”  
“And you think they ain't gonna look for you?”  
“It's hard to find someone you can't see. If I can manage, they'll never even know I was there.”  
Alex waved to a short pretty blond girl draped over the arm of a nearby chair, “Girl, gwan make me a screwdriver, heavy on the screw.”  
The blond kicked her feet in the air, “Why me?”  
Alex sat forward on the couch and pointed at her with a sky blue lacquered fingernail, “Cos I'm the one tole you about this party. This here is my place you laying you skinny ass all over so you can damn well get me a drink!”  
The blond groaned but pushed herself upright and stalked off through a doorway into a tiny kitchen so filled with bodies, she had to push through sideways.  
“Okay,” Alex leaned back in the cushions, “I think you gonna get busted but that's none a my business. You still ain't told me why you doin' it in the first place.”  
Eris gestured to the room, “Look around. We're all just faces in the crowd. No one cares about us.”  
“My man care about me.” Alex tilted her head toward a handsome young man seated on an old bar stool talking to a couple of guys.  
“But who are we? Do we matter to the world out there?” Eris pointed out the window, “No, we're just exotic dancers, whores. Nothing special.” In the back of her head she could hear the words spoken to her as if Old Man Brooks had been whispering them in her ear, _“You ain't never gonna be anything. All you goin' ta be is a slut. Girls like you is nothing special, only thing you know how ta do is lay on your back.”_ Then he'd proceeded to force her to do just that. She closed her eyes, shutting her mind to the memory.  
“In Asgard, though, we're different, unique. Here I'm just another face. There, I could make a name for myself. I could find a rich man, become a mistress. I could become a lady, a duchess, maybe even a queen. No one would know about my past. They couldn't look it up in a database. It would be a new start for me.”  
Alex stared at her for a long minute, pursed her lips, “Mmhmm, but you still a ho. What you gonna do in this backwards society? Become a farm girl? Lady in waitin'?”  
“I'll manage. Men are the same, no matter where they come from they're always the same,” Eris smiled, They think with their dicks.”  
“Uh huh,” Alex nodded, “See? Ho.”

Eris could just see over Alex's shoulder as she swung open the bedroom door, a marshmallow white ass on the down swing.  
“Goddamn it, Charlie! Get the fuck off my bed with that bitch! I got my girl here, she need some sleep!”  
“Fuck!” Charlie cried, “I was close!” He rolled to one side, the girl beneath him quickly pushing her mini skirt down to hide herself as she scrambled off the bed.  
“You better not messed on those sheets or you gonna be washing them by hand!” Alex yelled as Charlie pulled on a pair of shorts he'd dropped to the floor. When the couple at last vacated the room, Alex tore the sheets off the bed and flung them into a green hamper by the door.  
“They's clean sheets in that white dresser. Bastard, I tole him leave off the women. He getting married next week.”  
Eris set the duffle bag on the floor and sat down on the bare mattress. She was exhausted.  
“Girl I still think you nuts. Go ahead and lock this door lessen you want unexpected company later. I don't trust none a them out there.”  
Eris nodded, “Thanks for letting me crash here.”  
Alex smiled wryly, “Will do. Anything for my crazy girl. See you in the morning.”  
After Alex left, Eris threw the dead bolt and dropped back onto the bed. She wanted to take out the books and look through them once more, unsure when she would get another chance after she checked in to the hotel but she was out before she could even bother to put new sheets on the mattress, laying on her stomach, her hand hanging over the side of the bed, touching her bag.

 

Brenna traced a finger along the scrollwork that had been tooled into the leather quiver lying across her lap.  
“He'll love it,” Jane leaned down to catch her eye, “Or isn't that what you're thinking of?”  
Brenna smirked, “There are a thousand things on my mind. This is but one.”  
She had come to the city to fetch the quiver for Fen, having commissioned it as a gift for his rite of passage. Before leaving to return home, she had stopped at the palace to pay a visit to her grandmother. Frigga, however, had been indisposed with the Allfather and so Brenna had been about to leave when she met Jane who was walking the corridors, reading a book. Jane had invited Brenna to her chambers. Seeing Jane was rabid for company, Brenna obliged.  
Jane lay on her divan before the fire where Brenna could see the slight bump the baby was creating now beneath the drape of her lavender gown.  
“I've got so much on my mind,” Jane stared into the flames, “Thor is so busy with his duties every day, the only time we have together is in the evening. Don't get me wrong, I cherish each night but.,” she chewed her lip, “I have to be doing something. I have to keep busy. This life might have been all a woman could hope for hundreds of years ago but this is the twenty-first century. I had a career before love interrupted it.”  
“Why can you not continue your work? Does my uncle forbid it?” Brenna shifted in her chair, the heat from the fire was lulling her into a comfortable stupor.  
“I couldn't exactly continue my research here at the palace. I don't have the facilities or the equipment in the first place and this place isn't exactly wired for electricity, plus I would need to access data, compile it, process it...”  
“What about working at the longhouses? They have all you need and the power to run it.”  
Jane glanced up at Brenna, “Thor wouldn't hear of it. He believes I am a lady and should act the part, besides, whatever would the people think if their queen were to immerse herself into the mysteries of the modern world,” Jane's face darkened, “You know Thor's position on Midgardian science.”  
“Do not let him cow you into submission. Though he be king, yet he is, at the end, a stone headed man.”  
Jane giggled at this, “Brenna you still sound jaded.”  
“ 'Tis my mood is all,” Brenna hugged the quiver to her chest, sinking back into the cushioned chair, “You forget my father is the most hard headed of them all.”  
“Mmmm,”  
“And more frustrating is it when his words begin to sound like wisdom,” Brenna sighed, “I am to visit Sophie soon after Fen's rite of passage. At my father's behest, I had to stay here in Asgard for two seasons learning to be a lady. Only then would he approve my decision to return to school in Midgard and become a nursemaid....”  
“You mean a nurse, don't you?” Jane interjected.  
“Yes, of course, I often confuse the two.”  
“I remember your temper tantrum when he delivered his ultimatum,” Jane turned onto her side to gaze at Brenna, “Thor said Loki was afraid you would run away again, he was always on edge.”  
“And perhaps he was right to be concerned in the beginning but now after two seasons here, I do not know that I feel the conviction I once had to remain on Midgard. I do wish to continue my studies but I do not know what I will do after I am finished.”  
“Maybe it's being here that has you confused. Once you get back to Earth, you'll fall into a familiar routine. Or maybe, like every other teenager, you don't know yet what you want to do with your life. I knew, when I was young I wanted to study the stars but I didn't figure out what field I wanted to go into until I went to college. ”  
“I am no teenager,” Brenna muttered, staring petulant at the floor.  
“Okay then, you're just barely an adult. What do you feel, in your heart? Which realm has a stronger pull for you?”  
Brenna closed her eyes, “Perhaps I would return to Asgard.”  
“Stay close to home. I can't blame you,” Jane sat up, “But how could you be a nurse here? All your skills would be taboo here in anachronism central.”  
“I could petition the King to allow me some minor advancements,” Brenna studied Jane, hopeful, “Perhaps bring Asgard forward in the field of medicine.”  
Jane chuckled, “Have you met Thor? The aforementioned stone headed man?”  
“Perhaps we could found a hall of science at the palace,” Brenna sat forward in her chair, excitement clearing her head, “You could petition him to enable you to continue your research, I could set up a learning hospital, teach wound care, how to prevent transmission of diseases..”  
“You sound like a public service announcement,” Jane lay back on the divan again, “and for god sakes, don't give me any ideas.”  
Brenna stared into the fire, smiled to herself, “I would not think of it.”

 

 

Colin felt like a peeping tom. He'd gone to the kitchen to fetch a linen towel for Ingrid and chanced to look out one of the windows into the garden where he saw Gretten and Beth standing amongst the rows.   
“Colin?” Ingrid called from the sitting room.  
“Hold on,” he tried to whisper but a moment later, Ingrid was at his elbow.  
“Colin, there is water everywhere. I wish to mop....”  
Colin held his hand up, nodding toward the window, “Keep it down.”  
They stood watching as Gretten slipped a flower behind Beth's ear, his hand lingering at her cheek before he dipped in for a furtive kiss.  
“Colin,” Ingrid whispered, “I do not ken what we are looking at?”  
“Nothing,” Colin rolled his eyes as he handed her the towel, “Nothing a'tall.”  
Ingrid glanced once more out the window before heading back toward the sitting room, “ 'Tis rude to spy upon a private moment.”  
Colin watched her walk away, turning back to see Gretten and Beth nearly at the kitchen door. He managed to swing it open just as Gretten put his foot on the back step.  
“Gods!” Gretten cried, “You scared me out of a season's growth, boy!”  
“Fergive me,” Colin retreated so they could step inside, eying Beth as she passed, “I was wondering if I could have a word with Miss Chapel.”  
Beth stopped, whirled about, her face crimson, “Uh sure. What can I do for you?”  
Colin cocked his head to the door, “Outside if you will.”  
Beth hurried back through the open doorway as Colin nodded to Gretten, “We won't be long.”  
Colin followed Beth outside, missing Gretten's scowl as he closed the door behind them.

Beth had moved from the doorway, around the corner of the manor, her back to the wall as Colin held out his hand.  
“Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Agent Colin Denehy with EuroM.I.N.D. A division of S.H.I.E.L.D.”  
Beth put a hand on her hip, “Colin, whatever are you talking about? I know perfectly well who you are.”  
“Aye. I'm just remindin' you is all. Just like I know yer a college student working toward a doctorate in anthropology.”  
“Colin, are you feeling okay?”  
Colin crossed his arms squinting up at the sun, high overhead, “Beth, one of my many duties on this assignment is to see that rules and regulations are followed by all non-residents of this realm, the same rules that you had to read prior to coming here.”  
Beth had focused on a patch of grass at her feet and was currently kicking it into dirt, “Right?”  
“Beth,” Colin leaned down, trying to catch her eye, “One of us isn't following protocol.”  
All at once, Beth slapped her hand on the wall behind her, “You know what? Those people who make the rules ought to try to live with them. I mean to throw two people together and expect nothing is going to happen...especially when one of them is charming, wise, handsome, a phenomenal cook..”  
Colin cocked his head, “We are talking about Gretten aren't we?”  
“Yes we are!” Beth looked up, her jaw set hard, “Don't you dare judge him like that. He IS handsome, charming, smart. You just have to sit down and talk to him.”  
Colin laughed, “Maybe you'd be able to convince me about the rest but I've different taste when it comes to looks.”  
“You mean you prefer Brenna...”  
Colin closed his eyes, felt a hand on his arm.  
“Hey we're all human. She's a lovely girl. I can't blame you. Look, haven't you ever felt like you belong somewhere? Like you'd finally come home? That's how Asgard, how Gretten makes me feel....like I've been waiting to come here all my life.”  
Colin sighed, hated that his attraction to Brenna was so obvious, hated that Beth made perfect sense in most everything she'd said.  
“You've four more months here. I highly suggest you reconsider this course of action before you wind up with yer arse in a sling, Beth.”  
She stood from the wall, stomped past him around the corner.  
“Beth, I'm serious,” he called.  
“I don't care,” she replied as he peeked around the corner of the house at her  
“I can recommend you be removed from the project.”  
She paused, her foot on the bottom step, “Why would you do that? I thought we were on the same side. Are you that heartless?”  
He trotted up to her, hoping Gretten wasn't standing on the other side of the door a foot distant, “I'm not fecking heartless. We are on the same side and that side clearly states no personal relationships are to be entered into with the Asgardian people. If I were to witness such events and did nothing, it would be my arse.”  
Beth put her hand on the door handle, “Okay, so don't watch us anymore. You can't report what you didn't see.”  
“Really? That's yer solution, turn a blind eye?”  
The door creaked open and Colin stared up at Gretten, standing there with his arms crossed, “Consider it more a request.”  
“Alright, okay,” Colin threw his hands in the air, “I see nothing but I'm telling you, if I start hearing about it, I'm going to have to do something. Do you understand?”  
“And what will you do, exac...” Gretten started but Beth was quick to cut him short.  
“We'll be more careful, right, Gretten?”  
Gretten grunted in return, held out his hand to help Beth up the steps.  
After they'd shut the door behind them, Colin stayed outside for a while listening to the birdsong, the whinny of horses, chirp of crickets. He knew he wasn't going to turn them in. He would look the other way if he had to break his neck to do it but at least he had to warn her. Nothing he couild say was going to stop them. Nothing would have stopped him if Brenna had returned his affection. He stayed outside until Gretten called that the evening meal was ready, going inside to take his place at the table with the family that was going to break his heart when it came time to leave.


	26. 26

_Assignment: 64379-01  
Location: Asgard _

_Agent: Colin M. Denehy  
Date: 8/27/29 _

_I can hardly believe it's been nearly three months since my arrival in Asgard but there it is. Home seems like the dream, Asgard the reality. Eidra has even talked about finding me a nice Asgardian lady to decorate my arm. I keep having to remind her I don't have that option and yet she still tries. I think she sees the same transformation in me that I'm seeing in Beth Chapel whom I took to task a few days ago about an issue I was at odds about. Today I apologized to Miss Chapel acknowledging that I too was of a similar mind. In the very least, she now knows I share her sentiment even if I don't know fuck all what to do about it.  
Nevertheless, everything must move forward. Exactly one week from today, I will be standing in the longhouse when the portal is first fired up. I don't know who Stark has in mind for his first volunteer; he hasn't said in any case but if he points a finger at me, I might tell him where he can shove it. I'll take the Bifrost over hard and fast technology, thank you very much. That being said, I fervently hope who goes through doesn't come out looking like scrambled eggs. Not only will it ruin the rest of the volunteer's day, it would also likely put a halt to the project if not end it outright. Stark, however, is confident he's going to be able to pull this off.   
The household is again back to normal after what everyone has taken to calling “the incident” last week. A change seems to have been effected with regards to Loki. He takes hard cider or spring water with his meals, occasionally a mug of ale, especially the ale made on the farm with his own barley but he hasn't touched a drop of wine. Vesta mistakenly poured some for him a few days prior, without telling him. He took a sip, blanched and handed the mug back to her. Later he confided to me he was aware the wine was only partly to blame for “the incident” but now each time he took so much as a sniff of the cork, he would break out in a cold sweat. A lesson learned says he, a hard lesson says I.  
Loki and Eidra are currently away in Rialo visiting Sally and Ren. Eidra looked over the moon to be going, Loki likewise though his joy tends toward the subdued. They're supposed to be back today but they've not returned yet. They left Brenna in charge and the poor girl had her baptismal fire when Helgi collapsed in the yard on the second day. I rode for the longhouses to fetch one of the on site doctors. It was closer than the palace and in my opinion, better. I've heard nothing good about the physician in the next town and Clotho is getting too feeble to travel such a distance.  
By the time I returned with the doctor, Brenna, Gretten and Hal had managed to get Helgi up and to the divan in the sitting room. Turns out she had suffered a small heart attack. I'll always cherish the look she gave the doctor when he told her she should come to the longhouse for testing. I informed him that he might have better luck bringing the equipment to the manor instead. He said he would have to get permission from Stark. I assured him I didn't think it would be a problem if he was to find out it was for Loki's family. I did not tell him getting Helgi to let him do the testing would be another matter altogether. On the contrary, upon imagining the whole scene in my head, I figured we'd all have a good laugh in the process. I asked him if he thought she was in any immediate danger after he examined her. He didn't think so but he couldn't tell. I advised him the best thing to do would be to wait until Loki came back before he went ahead with any testing so he put Helgi on light duty, gave her some nitro tablets if she had anymore chest pains, and left. I'm pretty sure we'll have to force into her mouth if she needs them. We've had to watch her every minute. She's determined to defy the doctor as much as possible.  
Edie is still keeping on. She has mastered the tablet, looking up her own words by picture as she's just learning to read. We've had a time keeping up with her. Each morning goes something like this,   
Ingrid: “She learned the words flower, dog, bird, grass, want, little, etc. and this is how you sign them.”  
Myself and other various household members: “Got it, watch for the new words (practice, practice) here she comes, get ready.” By the time I leave this realm, if I've a mind to change professions, sign language interpreter might be a good place to start.  
Brynn's been having regular attacks. I mentioned, only to Eidra mind you, that maybe he might benefit from being seen by an allergist, after explaining to her what an allergist is. She said she would broach the subject with Loki AFTER the portal tests. She didn't want to leave him home but we convinced her we'd take care of him. Ingrid being the nanny she is, has seen to it he has diversions aplenty to keep him quietly occupied, no small feat with a three year old. She is a miracle worker.  
Fen is anxious. His rite of passage is less than a month away. I have to make a point of asking Loki what the rite entails for the observers. Ingrid mentioned something about all participants being naked except for cloaks, belts with daggers. If such be the case, I've a bit of fitness training to attend to, after all, I have to represent the men of Midgard properly..._

 

The sound of giggling at his shoulder nearly caused him to fall off the rocky outcrop he was perched on. He scooted forward, turned around to see Brenna smiling down at him.  
“Jesus, Bren! It's a damn good thing I'm not armed!”  
She sat down beside him on the rock, “I am sorry. I should have made more noise but I am more nosy than noisy.”  
“Clever...,” Colin tapped the screen, “The journals are supposed to be personal, you know.”  
“Forgive me for prying,” she wrapped her arms about her knees, “....you are an intriguing writer.”  
“Mmm, don't submit me name for a Pullitzer prize just yet. Are yer parents back from Rialo?”  
“No,” she gazed out over the barley fields, “I am sure they are on their way, my father wanted to be home when the grain is harvested.”  
Colin glanced at her, “How're the headaches coming?”  
Brenna picked up a pebble, tossed it into the field where it disappeared among the golden stalks, “Better, actually. Before the tests I would heal everything I found broken, my quill, a mug, a crack in a window pane. I would even go so far as to heal a broken fingernail. Looking back I think how silly, how haphazard I was. Now I fetch a new quill, get a new mug, trim my nails. I will only use my power for the direst of circumstances.”  
“Aye, moderation is the key.”  
They were quiet for a few minutes, listening to the breeze whip the stalks of barley into an excited whisper.  
“I was frightened at first. Wishing to pursue a career on Midgard as a nurse, I was aware of the implications of my tests. Strange, is it not? Mister Wagner used to say “ignorance is bliss”. Had I not read so much about medicine while at school, I would not know enough to worry me.”  
Colin chuckled softly, “And yet, yer still going to become a nurse.”  
“Now that I must limit my gift, I feel my calling to help people ever stronger. I will most certainly be enrolled in the spring semester. I am going to the same college as Sophie.”  
Colin leaned back on his hands, “Why aren't you enrolling in the fall like most students?”  
Brenna shot him a dry look, “I promised my father I would remain in Asgard while the portal was being built. I had to beg him to let me visit Sophie this coming moon. I argued with him that I needs must do so much to be ready to attend school. Sometimes I think he wishes I were still a child.”  
Colin nudged her with his elbow, “You've likely heard this before but it's true, wait until you have wee ones of yer own.”  
Brenna slid down from the rock, turned and put her hands on his boots, “I have indeed,” she sounded sad and Colin was seized by the urge to hug her, “But first to other things. I shall let you to your journal. Listen for Gretten lest you miss the evening meal.”  
She drifted down the path as he returned his attention to the tablet for a moment more, sighed and shut it down. His train of thought was completely derailed. He would finish the journal later that evening. 

 

Simon stared through the dense forest undergrowth, spying only trees, a hundred shades of green, brown trunks, fern. Then he saw it again. He shielded his eyes from the sunlight streaming in past his left shoulder. Someone or something was moving around in the shadows.   
He had taken each morning to walking the perimeter of the camp. The fresh air and the scent of the earth, woods reminded him of the backyard at his little cottage. He could close his eyes and picture himself back home. It cleared his mind for the day ahead, a much needed exercise as the portal tests drew nearer and he felt more overwhelmed.  
Simon heard a rustle of brush, saw a flash of color, blue cloth. He glanced behind him at the rows of tents, thinking to yell to someone, realizing then he was farther from the site than he thought. He turned back just in time to see someone dodging between the trees as fast as they could away from the encampment into the deeper brush.  
“Hey!” Simon called, stepping from the camp road, “Wait!”  
The person stumbled, fell, jumped to his feet in an effort to quicken his pace as Simon fought his way through the tangled vines, over fallen trees, trying to keep the person in sight. His foot found a mossy branch and he pitched to the left, landing on his side on a rotted tree stump with a grunt.  
He sat up, scanning the forest around him but the person he'd been chasing had continued on.  
Simon pulled himself to his feet. He would have to tell Tony what he'd seen. He turned to head back to the clearing and stopped. Which direction had he come from?  
“Shit,” he muttered and started walking.

Simon pulled his sweat soaked shirt away from his body, wiped his hand across his forehead as he stood staring at a wide stream. A couple times as he was searching for evidence of the trail back to the longhouses, he'd caught a glimpse of the same blue shirt that had drawn him into the woods in the first place. He was certain he was being followed. He decided he would head upstream. Maybe he could find a farmhouse or a cottage before the blue shirt made his move. He began to pick up his pace.

 

“What do you mean he didn't show up?” Tony spun around to glare at Ardsley and Kenworth the two young agents standing in his office.  
“I mean he wasn't at breakfast in the mess tent,” Ardsley ran his hand through his spiky brown hair, “We checked his tent and he wasn't there either. After we searched the longhouses, we came to you.”  
“Alright, he takes a walk in the morning, did anyone check the camp perimeter?” Tony strode through the office doorway into the longhouse interior.  
“We've got someone on it right now,” Ardsley trotted ahead of him to open the exterior door.  
Tony shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun. He could see a few workers walking along the outer road along the tent rows. On the wind came faint cries, “Simon!”  
“We need to expand the search. The last thing we need is an inter-dimensional incident. Ardsley, you and Kenworth take an infrared scanner and sweep the area, see if he went into the brush. Keep me posted. If we can't find him by noon, I'm going to head to the palace and get the big guns.”

 

The woods ahead seemed to be opening up. Simon allowed himself a smile. He'd probably gone in a wide arc. The site had to be beyond that dense stand of pine.  
As he stepped free of the tree line, he sighed. He couldn't have been more wrong. He stood at the edge of a field full with some sort of grain. Far in the distance across the way, the roofs of a cottage and a barn poked their thatched heads over the swaying golden stalks.  
“So you ask them how to get back to the site. No problem,” he rubbed his hands together, “Best get on with it.”

 

Lelia sprang backward, pressing herself against the gate of the goat pen as her brother raced past, missing her by a fraction of an inch.  
“Davan! What in Valhalla!” she cried, the ewe behind her kicking excitedly at the pen wall.  
“A man...,” he shouted as he reached the opposite barn door, “Coming!”   
“Who?” Lelia looked through the barn door the way he'd come but could only see the barley fields rippling in the sunlight.  
“From the longhouses!” Davan called as he kept his rapid pace toward the cottage.  
Lelia felt her stomach tighten with excitement. A Midgardian? Why was he so far from his people? She secured the pen gate, took her bow and quiver from the nail in the timber at the door and headed out toward the fields.

Simon saw a left turn in the rough track at the end of the row he'd kept even with. It seemed to head toward the cottage which loomed larger now than it had a few minutes previously. He started to jog a bit. At this point he'd been gone at least a good hour and a half. He was definitely missed now. As he came to the end of the row, he heard a voice behind him.  
“Halt!”  
Simon pivoted about, his legs tangling together, depositing him on his backside in one of the ruts in the track.   
Facing him was a barefoot woman in a pea green dress, the sleeves rolled short. She had a tangle of long dark red hair tied away from her face in a rough leather lace and green eyes which seemed lit from within, their color brilliant even from a distance. She was pale of skin, not the unhealthy pallor of malnutrition, Simon surmised, rather of genetics. A sprinkle of dark freckles crossed the bridge of her nose and a long healed scar ran from the left corner of her mouth halfway to her ear. She was plain though fair of face, her simplicity made beautiful in its purity. She would have turned heads in any setting, his included but for the fact that she had an arrow notched in a large bow pointed at his chest.  
“Get up!” she shouted, “ Keep yer hands where I can see them, mind ye.”  
Simon pushed himself to his feet, never taking his eyes off her trembling bow hand. One sudden move and he was sure he'd find an arrow in his sternum in short order.  
“I mean no harm,” his voice wavered. He cleared his throat though it only made him sound hoarse, “I've lost my way.”  
He stared up the length of the arrow at her as he made his feet, and raised his hands in surrender, her bow dipping a bit as a confused look came over her face.  
“The off worlders are employing dwarves now?”  
“Okay, really?” Simon glanced down at himself, “I'm not that short where I come from, honestly.”  
“Well ye look like a dwarf,”she raised the bow again.   
Simon wanted to point out the fact that he was only half a head shorter than her but judiciously kept his mouth shuts, standing straighter, raised his hands higher, “Born and bred in SouthHampton, sorry to disappoint you.”  
“I know not this place ye speak of,” the woman narrowed her eyes, “I only know what I see with me own eyes.”  
“Lelia!”   
Simon heard the shout behind him which turned his head, the twang before him and a thud as the arrow struck the ground between his feet. All at once he felt like he was going to be sick.  
“Davan, damn ye!”   
Simon stared at the boy who had come even with him, recognizing the blue shirt he'd chased through the forest, then looked again at Lelia who was nervously fumbling with another arrow from the quiver at her back.  
“I swear I'm not here to hurt anyone, please!”  
Lelia paused, the arrow notched on the string, shaft resting on her finger though she held it pointed at the ground.  
“What are ye here for then?”  
Simon stuck a thumb out at the boy who was now staring up at him bug eyed, “I was following this young man. I was out walking the perimeter of the site and spied him in the brush. I wanted to know what he was on about and I became turned around. I only want to return to the site. I'm sure I've been missed.”  
“Yer a real Midgardian?” Davan was still gaping at him.  
“Yes I am.”  
“Shall we bring him to the cottage to see Ma and Da?”  
Simon dropped his arms to peer at the watch on his wrist, ignoring Lelia's return to the ready. “I don't suppose I could impose upon you to return me to the site instead?”  
Lelia dropped her bow again, “I will not set foot near that place. It's to me da you'll go, and Davan also for he knows full well he was warned about sneaking off to the clearing.”  
“Oh Lelia keep this to yerself please!” Davan rushed up to Lelia and tugged at her arm.  
“Oho, 'tis contrite ye are now. I need not say a word. The Midgardian dwarf's presence will do the telling.”  
“Honestly?” Simon muttered.  
“It will matter not, Da is been wanting to see these Midgardians up close.” Davan pulled at Simon's sleeve to move him down the track toward the cottage, Lelia bringing up the rear.

“We think we've found a trace, sir. He went into the woods.” Ardsley pointed to the tablet screen where a faint red glowing line wound through the underbrush, tinting the leaves and low branches light pink where Simon had touched them.  
“Well lets get tracking before the trail cools. With any luck we'll find him before anyone or anything else does,” Tony waved his hand for the group to follow him as he entered the tree line.

 

They reached the end of the fields, coming to a clearing where he spied a couple large stone outbuildings and a well kept large cottage with a low thatched roof. Lelia and Davan trotted up the steps and pushed open the cottage door. Simon, following behind a bit slower, stopped at the doorway to a large common room.  
Three more children of varying age had leaped from the rug before a great fireplace hearth and were now racing across the room to great Lelia, stopping short only by the roar of a heavyset middle aged woman bent over a pot suspended on an iron hook over the fire.  
“Hold where ye are!”  
She had green flashing eyes. Her graying hair was tied up tight in a bun at her head and she sported a careworn dress with a dark blue apron at her waist.   
“Ma, a Midgardian!” Davan shouted, “Where's Da?”  
The woman, upon seeing him, now paused, a wooden spoon in her hand dripping upon the hearthstone.  
“You.....you're..,” the woman pointed at him,“Da!?”  
A giant of a man, dressed in leather breeches and black leather boots, drying his face off with a cloth. emerged from a room to Simon's right. He was barrel chested with thick arms, a beard and long red hair streaked with gray done in a braid down his bare back. He stared at Simon for a moment before throwing his hand at Lelia.  
“Ye brought a dwarf here?”  
“For god's sake,” Simon growled through clenched teeth, “I am NOT a dwarf. I am a human being...a Midgardian.”  
Da rose to his full height, put a finger aside of his nose and tapped it, “Is that so now? What is a Midgardian doing so far from the Longhouses?”  
Lelia pointed to her brother, “Davan was spying on them like ye told him not to.”  
Davan scowled at Lelia, shaking his head, “ 'Twas not on purpose, Da, I swear it. I was after playing about in the woods. He followed me!”  
“I saw someone in the underbrush. I only wanted to find out who it was,” Simon was quick to retaliate, “I wasn't going to hurt anyone. I'm not even armed. You can search me if you like.”  
“I might do just that.” Da walked over to Simon who gasped as the man bent over and clapped the sides of his tunic, breeches, his boots. The man was as strong as he looked. He stood back and gestured to Ma who was still standing there, gawping at him.  
“Mother, see to a bowl of stew for our guest. He's no wider than Davan. Do they not feed ye well at the encampment?”  
“They feed us very well, thank you and please don't go to any trouble, I just need to find my way back to the site.”  
But Da had pulled a chair out from a large rough hewn table and was now guiding him over to it, “Ye've time for a bowl and a mug. I must know, however did ye come to be from Midgard?”  
Simon put a hand to his forehead. If he heard the word dwarf once more, he was going to scream.  
“I was born on Midgard.”   
Ma set a bowl on the table before him. Despite his reticence, his desperation to return to the encampment before he was missed, the earthy sweet aroma of the stew made his stomach growl. Would it really hurt him to have a few spoonfuls? It was only hospitable after all. He inspected the spoon, found it to be clean and pulled the bowl to him, nearly jumping over the table as he felt the man's large hand at his ear.  
“Not much of a point, I'll warrant ye but still there.”  
“A..ch...childhood accident. I fell off a swing when I was all of two.”  
Da twisted his head around, tapped his other ear, “Twice?”  
“What?”  
“Ye fell on both sides?”  
Simon felt his face grow hot. His mother had told him the swing story time and again. In school, he'd been picked on constantly about his ears, “They're oddly shaped yes thank you for pointing it out.”  
Da, who'd taken a seat beside him, clapped him on the back, “I meant no harm. I was only for noticing. A heritage is something to be proud of. Tell me, what name do ye go by?”  
“Simon Foster.”  
“Two names. How odd,” Lelia had taken the chair across the table from him and was now regarding him curiously.  
“Simon is my given name. Foster is my surname. Odd it may be but it's mine and there you go.” He took a spoonful of stew though before he could put it in his mouth, his other hand was taken in a firm handshake by Da.  
“I am Vargas, son of Raver. Ye've already met me wife Claire,” he waved to Ma who curtsied, keeping her eyes trained on Simon, “..and me two eldest offspring. The wee three staring at ye from behind their mama's skirts are me namesake, Vargas, Meria, and the baby Bowen.  
“Delighted,” Simon nodded to the children, “You've a full house.”  
“There's talk of more Midgardians coming here. Is it true?” Claire had moved closer still to the table.  
Simon paused. He had talked about the next wave with Tony, the King, and his brother but it didn't mean the kingdom was privy to such information even though the High Council had held a public meeting upon the subject. He decided he would temper his reply just in case.  
“I don't know all the details. They keep me in the dark, I'm only a scientist.”  
“A scien-tist?”  
Simon nodded, “Physicist,...um....,” he wracked his brains to come up with an Asgardian equivalent, “Alchemist?”  
A smile spread across Vargas' face, “Ah, a potion maker...”  
 _Oh, what the hell._ Simon returned the smile, “Let's go with that.”  
“What does a potion maker have to do at the Midgardian camp?” Lelia fixed him with her green eyes.  
Simon took another bite of the stew, trying to bide time, “I'm helping to build the portal. I do much more than make potions. I figure out mathematical problems, measure things, program equipment...” He looked about the room at the blank stares, “I help.”  
“Will the new Midgardians build homes and live here too?” Davan was half over the table, watching him.  
“Davan, shut it.” Vargas looked at Simon sheepishly, “Fergive me boy, he fergets his manners when he's excited.”  
Simon paused, feeling the urge to reassure them, ease their apprehension, “According to what I heard at the High Council meeting, the new group will be distributed among the people of the kingdom to learn their ways for a year then I believe a group of Asgardians will go to Midgard to do the same. It was a public forum.”  
Vargas shrugged, “We've enough to do on the farm here. No time fer frivilous trips to the city. What news we receive comes from travelers, family who pass by. When we moved from Alfheim to Asgard, we left much behind. Now we stay close to home especially in these times, begging yer pardon.”  
“I understand completely,” Simon scraped the bottom of his bowl, “Madam, this was a fine stew,” he resisted the urge to take the bowl and spoon and wipe them clean, relinquishing them to Claire's outstretched hand as he turned to Vargas, “And now I must ask you, would you be so kind as to lead me back to the longhouses?”  
Vargas stood from the table, “Aye, let me fetch mah bow. I never go unarmed.”

 

The radio crackled in Tony's hand, “Sir, we've come to a field. There's a farm in the distance.”   
“That's where the path led? Head for the farm, leave the channel open. I want to hear what's going on. Remember these people are not our enemies, at least not yet so lets not give them a reason to distrust us. Approach with caution. No confrontation, no weapons unless absolutely necessary.”  
“Yes sir.”

“ 'Tis not far to the clearing,” Vargas pointed with the tip of his bow to an open area beyond the treetops along the fields, “Ye were likely going in circles.”  
“Well I'm not much of a tracker to be honest with you. I've gotten turned around in my own back yard.”  
“I thought dwarves had a keen sense of direction,” Vargas chuckled.  
Simon sighed aloud, “Look, I told you, I'm a Mid...a human. Why do you insist on calling me a dwarf. Is it because I'm short because that's called stereotyping. I can point out at least ten men at the site who are shorter than me....”  
“No, I told ye...”  
“If it's not my height, what in god's name is it, and I've already told you about my ears.”  
They had reached the road leading around the barley fields, “To tell the truth, 'tis not one individual thing, 'tis everything. Yer ears, yer height, yer face, hands,” Vargas reached over, tapped a spot behind Simon's left ear and he knew what Vargas was looking at.  
“And this little mark here.”  
“...is a birthmark.”  
Vargas laid a heavy hand on his shoulder, “It's a clan mark. I know because I've seen it on a band of dwarves living in a settlement outside the town of Milhelm in Alfheim. They're metalsmiths, some of the finest in the nine realms.”  
“It's a birthmark.” Simon reiterated though his voice had dropped in volume.   
“Aye, let's go wi' that.” Vargas winked at him as they rounded the corner of the field to continue along its edge.  
“Hold it right there!”   
Simon and Vargas both looked up. Ahead in the road were two agents, guns drawn. Before Simon could react, Vargas had drawn an arrow from the quiver on his back and notched it to the string of his bow.  
“Who are ye?!” he roared, staring at them down the length of the shaft.  
Simon leaped forward, “Wait! Wait! Put the guns away, Jesus Christ!” His heart felt about to crash through his chest wall, “What the hell are you doing?”  
“We'll put the guns away when he lowers that bow, sir.” Kenworth held the pistol steady. On his belt the radio crackled.  
“Simon says put the guns down....Christ, that sounds so stupid.....put the guns down, Kenworth?”  
“Mister Stark?” Simon called out, “I'm perfectly fine. The agents,” he growled the word, glaring at them, “had their guns drawn when we rounded the corner.”  
“They're a little trigger happy outside the compound. I'll talk to them.”  
Simon put a hand up to Vargas, “It's okay. No one's going to hurt you. They came looking for me.”  
Vargas lowered the bow though he kept his gaze trained on the two agents, “They've got a right sorry sense of hospitality.”  
“Da!” came a shout behind him as the agent's guns swung high again.  
Lelia slid to a halt, her bow in hand, “I heard ye yell.”  
“Simon's friends came to fetch him.” Vargas walked to her, yanking the bow from her hand, “Next time, do as I say and stay in the cottage with yer Ma instead of running headlong into trouble.”  
Simon clasped his hands together, bowing to Vargas, “Listen I've upset the whole household today. Forgive me. I'll be on my way. The agents will escort me back to the longhouses.”  
“Are ye certain? I'm not sure of the quality of yer company.”  
“Neither am I but I assure you,”Simon laughed, “I'll make it back in one piece.”  
Vargas smiled, “So be it. Yer welcome to visit again, Simon Foster.”  
Simon glanced at Lelia then at Vargas, “Thank you for your fine hospitality,” then he did something he could count on one hand having done before; he stuck out his hand to Vargas who shook it heartily, “Farewell.”  
As they reached the entry point from the forest, Simon, touched his ear, looked back to where Lelia and Vargas stood watching them, then followed the agents into the dense underbrush.


	27. 27

Simon sat at the writing desk in his tent, gazing into his stand mirror by the the orange flame of the lantern, his solar light dark on the ground. Tony had been irritated, not angry but irritated when he'd stepped out of the forest into the encampment.  
 _“What did I tell you? If you were going to go for a walk, stay in camp and carry some kind of weapon. A gun, tazer, mace, large stick I don't care but carry something. Rubber bullets are better than no defense at all.... Give you at least half a chance to get away.”_  
He'd explained to Tony that the people he'd encountered were friendly but Tony had held up his hand, _“And if they hadn't been, we'd have an incident on our hands now.”_  
Simon had returned to the longhouse, working in silence most of the day as he sat before the computer bank beside the portal, his mind far afield. He retired early, thinking to do a bit of reading but his thoughts kept returning to the family he'd met, the things they'd said, however inane they might be. And now here he was, holding a mirror in his hand, staring hard at the birthmark behind his ear.  
“Jesus,” he muttered, setting the mirror on the table and turning down the wick on the lantern. He sat the solar light on the table beside it, dialed down low, then burrowed beneath the coverlet on his cot. As he drifted to sleep, he felt the shell of one ear and shivered, pulling the covers tight around him.

 

Fen lie awake listening to Astrid in her bedchamber, wailing when Father told her she must stay home today.  
“But Papa, I will be good. I will not run about!”  
“I am sorry my little sparrow, you must stay with Ingrid. Help her tend to Helgi. I charge you with seeing that she stays in bed to rest. Sit on her if you must.”  
Fen heard Astrid giggle even as she begged him yet again, “Papa, everyone is going.”  
“Only your mother, Brenna and myself. That is not everyone.”  
“But I wish to see the Midgardians!”  
“You see a Midgardian each evening. Is Master Denehy not one of them?”  
Fen scowled at the wall. He could have argued the right to join them for he would soon be a man though he doubted his father would let him even had he been considered old enough,. His father had already expressed his concern over what the portal would do once it was running, entreating Mother to stay home as well but she would have none of it, insisting upon being at his side. Fen almost felt sorry for his father. Mother could be so very stubborn. The creak of his bedroom door made him close his eyes again. He didn't want to be perceived as having heard the conversation but he needn't have worried.  
“Fen?”  
It was Cait.  
“Today is the day, Fen. Why can we not go with Papa?”  
“Mmph, only grown ups may attend.”  
“Why?”  
The covers started to slip from him and he grabbed at them,“Go ask Ingrid.”  
“Hey!” he cried as he felt the covers yank out of his hand and he sat up, catching Cait's frown as she stomped out of the room.   
“It is time for chores,” she called as she trotted down the stairs.  
Fen fell back on his pillow, “Little troll.”

 

Her hands were trembling so, she kept fumbling her hair clip  
“Damn,” Eidra put her head forward to gather her hair in her hands once more, letting out a squeak as she felt a pair of hands join hers.  
“Put your head up and hand it to me.”  
She handed Loki the carved wooden clip, “Must you steal about like a thief to frighten me?”  
He raised her hair from her neck, planting a kiss at the nape which closed her eyes, eliciting the memory of their passionate coupling the night before.  
“I did no such thing. I simply saw you struggling as I walked in,” he twisted her hair around, curled it into a bun atop her head, “Astrid is in tears once again because she cannot come with us.”  
“She worships you.” Eidra smiled as Loki' placed his hands on her shoulders.  
“Truth be told, I would prefer to bear witness to such a dangerous event alone but my ladies cannot be reasoned with.”  
Eidra shook her head, “We cannot.”  
He gave her shoulders a squeeze, “Finish up. I will bring the horses around.”

 

Loki and Brenna were in the dooryard with the horses when Colin stepped outside. The sky was gray with heavy clouds. There would be rain later, he could feel it in the air.  
“Might want to bring our coats,” Colin took Agathon's reins which Brenna was holding out to him.  
Loki gazed up at the clouds, “An ominous portent is it not?”  
“For the day or the weather, there's the question.”  
Loki stroked Lightning's neck, “Let us hope 'tis for the weather alone.”

 

“What does it say on the screen?” Tony called down to Simon who peered at the screen. He'd woken up with a terrific headache and the lights from the computers and the equipment only served to aggravate it.  
“It says containment barrier active.”  
Tony stood atop the platform, “Just to be sure, I'm going to have everyone remove anything metal when they arrive. Better safe than sorry.”  
“Right,” Simon muttered, “Instead of losing a finger because of a ring, they'll lose their heads to a flying toolkit.”  
Tony trotted down the ramp, “Well that's what we have the containment barrier for, to protect the travelers and the operators from the electromagnetic current. It worked during the test phase.”  
Simon sat back in the chair. his fingers at his temples, “With a small prototype. Let's hope we've got the calculations correct.”  
“I have.”   
Tony leaned in front of Simon, punched a few keys and put his hand to the computer screen, drawing out a holograph of the portal, pulling the image apart until all the components were cross sectioned before them in glowing red light.  
“I'm not a religious man, mind you,” Simon looked at Tony through the hologram, “but I, for one, will be saying a prayer.”  
“Oh ye of little faith,” Tony smirked as he collapsed the hologram into a ball and threw it back at the computer screen.  
“Sir,” Kenworth called from across the longhouse, “The guests are starting to arrive.”  
Tony glanced at the computer screen and clapped Simon on the back, “Then I'd say It's showtime.”

 

Thunder shook the walls of the longhouse. Colin stood at the back of the group, observing from a reasonable distance. Thor and Loki watched Tony as he sat before the bank of computers to the right of the platform. Eidra and Jane kept to one side, their heads together as they talked in a whisper. Brenna stayed close to Colin, chewing on her thumbnail.  
“I detest waiting,” she nodded toward the portal, “It makes me exceeding nervous.”  
Tony pushed away from the computers, trotting up the ramp to the top of the platform where he clapped his hands together. All eyes fell on him and he smiled.  
“Ever the showman.” Colin crossed his arms.  
“If I've synced the times correctly, in about five minutes, either we will witness a miracle or be running for our lives. I would tell you where the exits are but if this all goes south, it won't matter.”  
Colin watched Eidra slip her hand into Loki's, felt Brenna lock her arm in the crook of his elbow. There was a tap on his shoulder and he turned his head to see Lily smiling at him.  
“Did I miss anything?” she whispered.  
“Nope, he's still doing his song and dance, yer fine...oh and I've the next report ready to go.”  
“I'll take it when we're finished here.”  
Colin looked about, “Where's yer husband?”  
Lily rolled her eyes, “Back at the palace helping to organize the feast. I say they're pretty confident this is going to work.”  
“We shall see..”  
“...but none of this could have happened,” Tony continued, “..without Brenna.” he waved at her, “Come up here, honey. Take a bow.”  
Brenna shook her head but Colin nudged her, “Go on. This is a rare happenstance that he acknowledges anyone's help.”  
“But I did nothing. If anyone deserves praise it should be my father and my uncle. They gave permission for the Uruz to be studied, permission for this portal.”  
“Well he won't let it go so you might as well get it done with,” he patted her hand.  
She let go of him and trudged up the ramp, her cheeks bright pink as Tony put his arm around her shoulders, “By letting us study the Uruz, she allowed us to unlock the secrets of creating this portal. Of course, with the gracious permission of her father, Loki,” Tony nodded to him, “And the King.”  
He led her halfway down the ramp, “Two minutes and counting. I have employed a volunteer on Midgard. This volunteer, will, in two minutes, activate the marker and the portal will open. The volunteer will then walk through, thus arriving here intact.”  
Technicians, scientists, workers began to gather around the portal, watching, waiting. The silence in the room had the quality of a reverent congregation. Simon sat staring at the computer screens, unmoving, save for the occasional tug on his ear. Colin wanted to wish him good luck but suspected he would likely scare the poor man half to death, so intent did he seem on his task.  
With a speed that made the whole room give a collective gasp, the six cubes sprang into the air in a circle, an electric hum filled the longhouse leaving Colin with the impression of watching an old Frankenstein movie. He half expected bolts of electricity to arc out around the portal base. A green flash at the corner of his vision caught his attention and he looked about the room, settling his gaze on Simon's office windows, after a moment surmising the portal must have reflected off the glass. The hum increased in volume and the lights started to dim.  
“Simon!” Tony yelled, “How are we looking?”  
“Like your volunteer had better hurry up!” Simon shouted back at him.  
The interior of the portal started to waver then as if looking through a wet pane of glass, an image started to appear, growing clearer and clearer until Colin could make out a woman with blond hair and some kind of blue clothing. Still clearer it grew as the hum became almost deafening and the woman took a step forward, her foot emerging onto the portal pad, her leg, followed by her arm, torso until Pepper stood on the portal pad gasping, her hand to her chest.   
The room erupted in applause, cheers, whoops as Tony guided her down the ramp and the cubes dropped to the pad with a metallic thud, the hum dropping in octaves, becoming a low rumble, finally cutting out altogether.  
Thor stepped forward, extending his hand to Pepper, “Miss Potts, welcome once again to Asgard.”  
Pepper gave him a wide smile though Colin thought he could see her hand trembling as Thor bussed it in a light kiss.  
“Thank you, your Majesty. I'm thrilled to be here.”  
Thor turned to face the crowd about him, “And to honor the success of Master Stark's invention. I invite you all to the palace for a day of feasting and celebration!”  
Loki had already moved away toward Colin while Thor spoke with Tony.  
“Yer not happy.”   
Loki managed a half smile, “Concerned would be a more accurate assessment,” he gathered Eidra under his arm, “What is to happen now? Will we become a destination for Midgardians looking for a new place to visit? I have seen the streets of New York swell with visitors in the summer.”  
“A tourist trap here in Asgard. I doubt that's what these portals were designed for.”  
“And yet you are not certain?”  
“No, but I'm pretty sure.”   
The crowd had started to break up and they fell in line behind Thor who was leading the way to the longhouse door.  
“Now to return home to fetch our brood and be polite.” Loki muttered,

 

“You can't tell me you didn't see it.” Beth cried.  
“To be honest, I was not looking at your hands.” Gretten peered over her shoulder.  
Beth stared into the blue depths of the stone in her grandmother's ring. To be honest, she hadn't been looking at the ring either. She'd been focused on squeezing all the satisfaction she could muster out of their brief span of time alone together while Colin, Loki and Eidra were at the longhouses but the bright blue burst of light from the stone had the intensity of a camera flash.  
Beth sat forward on the edge of the bed, “Then your eyes must have been shut. It was like a strobe light.”  
Gretten was tying his breeches, trying to see over his round belly and Beth smiled at his frown of frustration, “You say it has never done such a thing before?”  
“Nope. I'd remember something like this,” she twisted the ring on her finger, “Where I come from, we'd need batteries for a light like that.”  
“Gretten took her hand in his, both of them studying the ring, “What was it then?”  
“I don't know.”

 

Simon clutched the wrought silver chalice to his chest, inhaling the soothing scent of mulled cider. For the last hour, Tony had hauled him around the Great Hall when all he wanted to do was hide in a corner and now more guests were arriving for the feast. It would only get worse from here.  
He had so much on his mind. After the test when he'd been able to break away to his office, far from the clamor and din of the group, he'd found something strange happening to his great great grandfather's deck prism. It had been almost too subtle to notice at first but as he sat at his desk, chin in his hands and looked over at the green chunk of glass, he realized it was glowing. A soft light, he would have likened it to bio-luminescence, barely noticeable but there all the same.  
He'd paced around the room, staring at it from every conceivable angle, trying to block the light from the desk lamp, the overhead halogens. The more light he removed, the more he could see the glow. He had dropped into his chair, frustrated.  
“First the damn ears, now my deck prism is possessed.”  
When Tony had come to fetch him, he'd tried to bow out but Tony had flat out refused to go without him.  
 _“You're the star of the show, Foster and you are going to act the celebrity so pack up your troubles in your old kit bag and prepare to mingle...”_  
Tony's word was gospel and so here he stood, trying to blend into the background....  
“Simon!”  
...which had zero chance of happening now.  
“It's been so long. The last time I saw you was the day we arrived!” Beth cried as she enfolded him in a bear hug, then held him at arm's length, “You look exhausted!”  
Simon nodded, gamely extracting himself from her grasp, “An astute observation.”   
He glanced at Tony who seemed intent on his conversation with Thor and Loki. This was his chance to break free, find a place to hole up until the feast was over even if he would have to make small talk. It was far better than being led about the room by his boss.  
“Why don't we find a couple chairs and have a chat?”  
Beth tilted her head, “Really?”  
“Yes, really,” he forced a smile as he guided her to a couple of empty seats near a small brazier, “Have you lost weight?”  
Beth giggled, giving him a playful shove which nearly knocked him off his feet, “I think I've lost a few pounds though I can't say for sure. No bathroom scales and all but it's so nice of you to notice.”  
Simon gave a wooden laugh as he kept his tack for the two chairs. If anyone took them first, he would beat them off with his chalice.

 

“They insisted on calling you a dwarf?”  
Simon roared with laughter, “Yes! Yes! Inane isn't it?”   
He had switched to hard cider some time ago, his tongue loosening with each chalice, “The father, a great hulk of a man he was, kept pointing at my ears even when I explained to him I'd had a childhood accident.”  
Beth leaned closer to him, “Mmm, I never noticed. Your hair hides them. I see what he meant though. They are kinda oddly shaped.”  
“..and then he assumes being short automatically made me a dwarf...” Simon slapped the arm of the chair, “Isn't it the damndest thing? The daughter, she was a cherry lass though....flaming red hair, emerald green eyes...”  
“Oh speaking of damndest things,” Beth gasped, “You won't believe what happened to me earlier today,” Beth held up her hand, “My ring...I don't know....lit up...flashed, like a strobe light! I don't have a clue why.”  
Simon was gawking at her, “You're joking!”  
Beth held up her hand, “Girl Scouts honor. Gretten claimed he didn't see it and I've half a mind to believe him. Maybe it was my imagination. Maybe the stone caught the light just right.”  
Simon grabbed her arm, his words slurring together, “No, no, I don't think so. You see, my prism, my deck...prism...it did this glowy thing. I went into my office to hide after the portal test and it was sitting on my desk lit like a half dead torch. What the hell is going on?”  
“Simon.”  
Simon looked up to find Colin standing over him, “Colin! Fancy a drop?”  
Colin lifted the silver chalice from Simon's hand, took his arm and hauled him to his feet, “No, and I'll go so far as to suggest you've had yer fill tonight too.”  
“I have that. I must say I can't recall the last time I overindulged in a pint.”  
Colin winked at Beth, “By the looks, I'd say ages. I'll help you out to one of the wagons. You'll be safer when yer horizontal. ”   
“If you insist, old friend. Milady,” Simon bowed to Beth, nearly toppling forward, “...till we meet again.”

Colin charged the stable boys with watching Simon who summarily passed out the moment he collapsed into the blanket covered hay of the wagon bed. The palace corridors were alive with people, Aesir and project technicians, royalty and commoner alike and he nodded as he passed by. He was growing familiar with the halls of Asgard, pausing frequently along the way back to the hall, trying his hand at deciphering a plaque here and there, admiring the soaring columns, the fine sculpture. A servant passing with a tray of chalices stopped as he sighted him.  
“Milord? More wine?”  
Colin held up his hand, “Ah, no thank you. Any more and I'll not sleep tonight.”  
The open doors to the hall were just ahead, the buzz from inside slowing his gait. He paused again, gazing about the corridor, eyes passing over a petite middle aged woman in a long pastel gray shift who was staring at him. He smiled at her as he started into the hall. Just as he made the threshold, a hand gripped the sleeve of his tunic, fingernails scratching the skin beneath. He jerked his arm forward and spun around, nearly hitting the woman in the head with his elbow.  
“What the hell?” Colin backed into the tall oak door at his right as she reached for him again, hand open wide before his face as she closed her eyes.  
“Divided by darkness, reunited by light. You will be the one to heal the rift.”  
He considered calling to one of the guards just inside the hall but the woman put her fingers to his lips and as he stared into her eyes which seemed to have a silvered caul over the irises, he realized she hadn't been looking at him in the first place at all.  
She was blind.  
“Trena.” came a voice to his right and the woman before him turned her head.  
“Hush, Lelia. We are before one of the ancients.”  
Colin looked to his right where stood a beautiful red haired girl in a green velvet dress. He began to speak but she shook her head, her gaze flickering to the woman who now cupped his face with her palms.  
“You are the one from Alfheim.”  
Colin gently pried her fingers from his face but she batted his hands away, running her thumbs along his jaw. “The blood is buried generations deep within but it is still there.”  
“Madam, I think you have the wrong person, my name...”  
“..Is Colin Denehy.....”  
Colin shivered, pressed himself harder against the door, praying for someone to come rescue him.  
The woman smiled as her fingers traveled up his cheeks to the top of his head, “Still tall...your name was not always Denehy. Your ancestors were of the Denari clan..”  
Colin felt his heart start to pound. He'd heard that name spoken often in the last few months. He wanted to tell her to shove off but he was held fast as she continued her tactile trek down to his shoulders. He needed a pint of ale in the worst way.   
“Look deep into your past. The four have come full circle. You will overcome discord, conquer winter's firm grip with the warmth of love.”  
Colin grabbed the woman's wrists shoving her hands away as he stumbled sideways, nearly knocking Lelia to the floor in his haste to put distance between them.  
“I don't know who the hell you are and I don't know who you think I am,” he cried, felt Lelia support him as he regained his balance.  
All at once, the woman laughed aloud and Colin realized the room behind him had gone silent.  
“You will see and when you see, you will know,” the woman began to sway and just before her legs gave way beneath her, Lelia was at her side, her arm about the woman's waist.  
On impulse, Colin moved forward helping Lelia steer the woman to a small divan nestled between two columns where they let her down.  
Lelia pulled Colin aside as the woman lay back on the cushions.  
“Forgive her, Master Denehy. Her methods are a bit abrupt.”  
Colin wiped his forehead with his sleeve, “She's bleedin' insane!”  
Lelia frowned, “She's Asgard's seer. She was Astrid's aide. When Astrid passed on, she took over the role. 'Tis an honor to serve the house of Odin. Sure and our family has done so for generations  
“Yer family?” Colin was suddenly dizzy.  
“She's me aunt. I came here two days ago because I was chosen as her aide...and ye would do well to heed her portents.”  
“Colin?”  
Loki was striding towards him, “I heard shouts. What is wrong”  
Lelia bowed deeply, “Milord, I was distracted as we entered the hall and Trena spoke to Master Denehy...”  
Thor had parted the crowd in the hall and was now at a trot towards them, “Loki, what happened?”  
“Trena seems to have frightened the wits out of Colin,” Loki dismissed Lelia with a wave, “Take the old woman back to her quarters where she may do less harm.”   
As the young girl moved off to tend to Trena, Loki turned to Colin, “What did she say to you?”  
Colin watched Lelia take Trena's hand, bringing her up from the couch, “Ah....she said I was...,” he swallowed hard, there was no way he was going to tell Loki what she'd said, not even under torture, “I was Midgardian...don't know how she could tell just by touching my face..”  
“The seers see more when they lose their sight. Every seer eventually becomes blind to the world as they look within themselves, and a bit insane,” here he chuckled, “Come re-join the feast. We will be leaving soon. The children grow tired. Brynn and Astrid have already given in to their dreams.”  
Colin followed Loki and Thor back into the hall though he kept looking behind him down the empty corridor as if to be sure Trena had not broken loose from her aide and was not rushing back to him with more predictions.


	28. 28

Eris wrapped her jacket tighter around her shoulders as the wind buffeted her about. In the distance, gray clouds had started to amass, casting the Fire island lighthouse in sharp relief. A light rain had begun to fall. The guide at the front of the crowd looked up at the sky.  
“We'd better wrap up the tour and get back on the bus.”   
Eris stepped in line as the guide, a middle-aged man dressed in a three piece suit and sporting dark sunglasses, gestured to the bus driver to open the doors. In a week, they would return to the site to depart for Asgard. The rain outside was building to a downpour by the time Eris slunk into one of the seats at the rear and the bus roared to life. Ignoring the excited chatter in the seats around her, she took her cell from her pocket and started to scroll through the messages. The truth of Alex's statement was starting to sink in now. Without all the modern conveniences of Earth, especially her phone, Asgard was going to be a very bleak place indeed and the reality depressed her. She really was going to attempt the impossible this time.  
She'd been a resilient child, a direct result of bouncing from foster home to foster home. She'd watched other foster kids crumble beneath the stress, the abuse, the constant need to adapt to survive. Whenever someone would ask her if being in a foster home was better than being with her real parents sometimes she'd laugh. Mostly she'd tell them to fuck off. A flash of lightning outside the bus window drew her attention. She watched another bolt streak into the ocean at the edge of the horizon.  
“Looks like we're in for a good one.” muttered the woman in the seat beside her.  
Eris drew her legs beneath her, resting her forehead on the window. The final foster home she'd been placed in was the best though by then she was too far gone to appreciate it. At fifteen, she'd had enough of the lies and the abuse, rules and restrictions.   
Melissa Burns, a middle-aged widowed grandmother with a large heart, had tried her hardest to give Eris what she'd never had, a true home. Eris was sure this was the source of her happiest memories though they had faded a bit with time and tragedy.   
Mrs. Burns had used the money she received for foster care on Eris instead of buying fancy clothes or expensive electronics, beer, cigarettes for herself as Eris had seen happen in countless other homes. She bought Eris her first piece of real jewelry, a gold necklace, a scroll-worked word “LOVED” as its centerpiece. Eris had pawned the necklace soon after she hooked up with a man she'd met at a party and took off to another state. Mrs. Burns bought her new clothes, gave her a tablet, her own bedroom with a bed to herself and a door with a working deadbolt on it because Eris had told her about the abuse she'd been through in other homes and Mrs. Burns knew she'd feel safer behind locked doors. They would sit down to dinner each night at the table and Mrs. Burns would ask about her day at school. She'd tried to love Eris, told her each night she was special, beautiful, smart, yet all Eris could do in response was to rebel against her efforts.  
If she was expected to be home by four in the afternoon, she'd come home at five, maybe six. Still Mrs. Burns would have supper waiting. If she wanted to go somewhere, she did so without telling anyone where she was headed but when she decided at last to return to the house, Mrs. Burns would be waiting in her chair before the TV, crocheting. She never yelled, never accused, never questioned what Eris had been up to. She would simply tell Eris good night as she retired for the evening. On occasion, Eris would allow herself to revisit the memories of the only place to earn the word 'home” for her, mostly when she was feeling like shit. Usually she'd end up feeling worse.  
Another flash of lightning lit the sky and the thunder rumbled, closer now as they headed back to the city. Eris closed her eyes. Sleep was preferable to being alone with her thoughts. 

A half eaten sandwich and a bag of potato chips lay forgotten on the bed cover beside Eris. She had opted to eat alone. It saved having to pretend she was interested in what her fellow teammates had to say.  
She flopped over onto her stomach across the bed and opened the old book. Over the course of time, as she'd deciphered the words painstakingly like an ancient cryptogram, transcribing them into English, she began to learn the language and now was able to read it without having to write it out first. She smoothed the brittle page with her hand, feeling the ancient nib marks, the ornate scroll work. She was determined to cram as much information as she could into her head before she made the trip and so she began to read where she'd left off the night before...

_The Legend of the Protector and the Rune Elementals_

_In the time of the Ancients, before man became man, when the Asgardians and the humans co-existed in peace and harmony, the Bifrost was a bridge in the truest sense of the word. The humans would come to worship at the Asgardians' feet and the Asgardians would visit harmony and blessings upon them but as humans bred and grew in numbers, they began to fight amongst themselves. They became petty, jealous creatures, greedy, only interested in war, tyranny over their people. One night a small band of men entered the Reliquary and stole the four Rune Elemental stones which would give any one, be he of Midgard, Asgard or any the nine realms, untold power were he to possess them. One of the royal guards,Volundr Denari, vowed to travel to Midgard to find the Runes and return them to Asgard.  
Traveling with him were three of his closest friends, from Niflheim, the dwarves Melos and Zola and from Muspelheim, the fire Jotunn Bantr. Together they scoured Midgard for the stones. Meanwhile, the men who had stolen the runes spirited them away to the four points of the compass. Inevitably, war soon broke out between the clans for sole possession of the magical stones. Volundr charged each companion to search, Bantr to the south, Melos to the east, Zola to the west and himself to the north. After many seasons, and countless skirmishes the four friends, with the runes, were re-united.   
When they returned to Asgard, King Bor deemed the runes much too dangerous to remain together and so, disguising the stones, he bestowed each one upon the companions who had found them, The Rune Laguz to Melos, the Rune Ingwaz to Zola, the Rune Kenaz to Bantr and the Rune Uruz to Volundr. He charged them and their seed into eternity to hide the Runes until they were again needed.  
The four companions bade each other farewell, taking with them their Runes. Volundr had the dwarves fashion out of enchanted silver, a Protector to guard the Reliquary and he too retired, returning to Alfheim to live out his days..._

Eris's head dropped to the page, jerking her awake. She yawned, closed the book and hefted it to the floor beside the bed. She'd long ago decided the book was more fairy tale than fact but if it only helped her to decipher the language then that was a plus in her eyes. She turned onto her back to stare at the ceiling. This party had better get started soon before she died of boredom.

 

Simon watched Tony pace up and down the ramp, mumbling to himself. He'd sent Pepper back home the day before and he'd been agitated ever since. They'd stood at the portal entrance forehead to forehead, whispering to each other before she'd wiped tears from her cheeks and stepped through. Tony then proceeded to lock himself in his office for most of the morning, re-emerging with a renewed energy Simon felt was merely another wall he'd erected to shield himself from the pain of being alone again.  
“I think we should run more tests don't you?”  
Simon looked up from the monitor, “Whatever you want.”  
“Whatever I want...,” Tony paused on his trek up the ramp again, “So you don't think it's a good idea?”  
“Yes I do,” Simon groaned inwardly.  
Tony squatted to peer over the edge of the ramp, “Why?”  
Tony could always tell when Simon was distracted or indifferent and Simon had to be quick to the draw or Tony would keep at him for the rest of the day to the distraction of all else until he cracked, making up any explanation that would throw him off. Very little ever did.  
“For consistency, and to ferret out any discrepancies with the data, establish a baseline.”  
“What textbook are you reading that from?” Tony jumped down to the longhouse floor. “What's on your mind, Foster? Whatever it is, it certainly isn't work.”  
What had he been thinking of? Oh yes, the same thing he had been for the last week.  
“Nothing,” he lied, “Except perhaps a yen for cup of tea and a good book.”  
Tony leaned over, eye level with him for a few moments until at last he stood up, “Fine, you tell me when you're ready. We've got a few days left until our next batch of guinea pigs arrive. Let's run another battery of tests and then we'll call it quits for the day.”

Simon assessed the items he'd laid out in a row on his cot, saying them aloud as he put them in his pockets, “GPS tracker, torch, field glasses, chocolate bars, better put them in the jacket pocket, don't want them to melt....,” The switchblade Tony had given to him lay beside his pillow. He paused, reached for it once, twice, grabbed it and shoved it under his coverlet.  
“I'm not going to go around half cocked with a dagger in my trousers. No need, no need.”  
He wiped his palms on his pants and clapped his hands together. The sun was heading for the horizon as he stepped from his tent. If he were going to break the rules without being caught, he would have a limited time in which to do it.   
Across the clearing came the faint clink-rattle of dishes as the workers at the mess tent cleaned the supper dishes. Simon kept his footsteps even, unhurried until he reached the edge of the clearing where he'd entered the forest a week ago. With one last look at the encampment, he parted the brush and disappeared through the trees.

 

Eidra stopped outside the twins bedchamber door, smiling, a basket of bed linen on her hip. Inside she could hear Loki singing with Astrid, Cait and Brynn. His mellow tone blended sweetly with the breathy lisps interspersed with laughter as they warbled their children's' song. She hated to interrupt them but the basket had become heavy. She pushed the door open gently yet before she could speak, Loki was at her side lifting the basket from her arms.  
“You need not have stopped singing.” Eidra knelt down into the semicircle the children had formed on the floor.  
“Papa,” Brynn tugged at Loki's breeches, “Mama said we can sing some more.”  
“Indeed she has,” Loki shook his head, “Because Mama does not know you promised to go to bed after the last song.”  
Sorry, Eidra mouthed to him, nodding to the children, “Then you must do as promised. Tomorrow is a new day. You may sing then.”  
A knock on the door turned Eidra's head, “Enter.”  
Ingrid strode in, followed by Edie who made a bee line for the children on the floor.  
“I should have known. Eidra, I said I would bring up the basket. How can I do my work when you will not let me?”  
Ingrid walked to the basket sitting on one of the beds and started to take the linens out.  
“It was time to retire for the evening. Why make you trudge upstairs for no reason?” Eidra rose to her feet, taking another stack from the basket, “In any case you should be well on your way to your cottage. It is full on dark now.”  
Ingrid tilted her head to Loki, “Will you make her see sense?”  
“I fear she has been long deaf to my pleas,” he chuckled, “Eidra, see the children to bed. Let Ingrid finish her chore.”  
Eidra handed the linens to Ingrid, “Oh no more, I pray. You will not put me off my household duties so I beg you save your strength, ” she sighed, lifted Astrid to her hip, “Come my little ones, it is time you were abed.”  
The collective moans made her giggle as Loki scooped Brynn up from the floor while Cait scrambled to her feet, running from the room with Edie close behind.  
“It looks to be a long night by my estimate.” Loki sat Brynn down on his bed.  
“Indeed it shall.” Eidra kissed Astrid's cheek.

 

The sun was near swallowed up by the mountains as Simon stepped out of the forest onto the road along the field. At first he thought he'd gotten turned around again, then he saw the cottage in the distance, candles blazing in the windows and realized why he'd become confused. They'd begun to harvest the barley. The field before him was half gone and the ruts in the road were much deeper, muddier than they had been before. Keeping in the grass along the road, he started for the cottage.  
A few minutes later, he stood on the doorstep listening to the voices within, trying to swallow his apprehension. Why had he returned to the little farm? It wasn't as if he believed any part of what Vargas had observed about him. Was it the need to see whose lives they were mucking up with the creation of the portal, a chance to see the pretty redheaded daughter, simple morbid curiosity?  
Simon balled his hand into a fist, paused, then knocked.

 

The hoofbeats awoke Fen first because his bedchamber window faced the front dooryard. At first he thought he'd been dreaming but as he lay in the dark staring up at the ceiling, he saw a faint flicker of light dancing across the rafters. He ran to the window, craning his neck to look down to the front door where he spied three men holding torches reining in their horses. When one of them dismounted, Fen caught the glint of gold on his armor and raced out of his room.

“Bren! Wake up!” Fen's loud whisper rasped in her ear.  
“Bren!”  
When he shook her, she yanked her coverlet closer to her chin, “G'way”  
“Brenna, get up!”  
“What is it, Odin's beard?”  
A distant rap on the front door made her sit up, nearly knocking Fen backwards.  
“You see! There are royal guards at the door!” Fen tugged at her arm, “Quickly!”  
Brenna and Fen stopped at the top of the stairs, staring down into the foyer where torches cast shafts of light through the windows on either side of the door.   
Brenna took the stairs two by two, narrowly avoiding a twisted ankle at the bottom. The knocking came again just as she reached for the handle and threw open the doors to find three guardsman standing on the manor steps, their countenances grave.  
One of the guardsman, a young man, bowed deeply, “The King requests the presence of his brother, Prince Loki at the palace. He is to travel with all due haste...”  
“What has happened?” Fen had elbowed his way to stand beside Brenna and now stood wide-eyed staring at the guards.  
“It is a matter for the Prince.”  
Quick footfalls approached from the darkness of the sitting room where Hal emerged with a lantern.  
“Great Freyr! Whoever is here at this hour?”  
Brenna shoved Fen back into the house, glancing at Hal as she passed him at a run up the stairs, “Royal guards. The King has sent for my father.”

 

The tart scent of hard cider wafted up from the jug as Vargas tilted it over Simon's mug even though he put his hand up when offered another drink.  
“ 'Tis good for yer constitution.”  
“I have to be able to see to find my way back to the site, however..”  
Vargas laughed aloud, clapped his hands, “Yer right of course. Now continue on with what ye were saying...”  
Simon cleared his throat. Three pairs of eyes peered at him from the opposite end of the table. No matter how many times Claire shooed the children away, they would drift back to stare at him, silent. Even Davan was distracted from his chores hovering close by until Claire would nudge him and he'd return to his work.  
“Ah, yes well...you mentioned my birthmark...you said it was some sort of family tattoo or something...how..why do you say that?”  
Vargas twisted about in his chair, “Claire! Fetch me the Guild tome!”  
Claire waved at Davan, “I've the evening meal to tend to. Fetch the tome for yer Da.”  
Davan groaned but soon he was placing a heavy leather bound book on the table between them. Vargas opened the book, leafing through thick parchment pages. Simon stood up to look over Vargas's shoulder at the strange language, irritated yet again that though they'd been transplanted here for an indeterminate period of time, they'd never been given anything to study upon the Asgardian language..  
“Because we were never expected to travel..” he muttered to himself.  
“Eh?” Vargas glanced up at him.  
“Thinking out loud, pay me no mind.”  
Vargas turned a few more pages until he found what he was looking for, his calloused fingers skimming down the page. Simon noticed a few large symbols with more writing beneath them and felt Vargas's hand atop his head, turning him to get a closer look at the mark behind his ear.  
“The marks change with the tribes,” Vargas turned another page, “Ah...”  
Simon wanted to pull away from his grasp but he kept still, his manners holding together.  
“Yer symbol is old...” Vargas turned the book toward him, pointing to an inscription below a dark blue sketch of what looked to Simon like a hammer hitting an anvil, “The first tribes founded by Melos, keeper of the Rune Laguz. They were masters of their craft. They fashioned the Protector, guardian of the Royal Reliquary.”  
Simon put a hand to the birthmark, “I don't see it....”  
Vargas rubbed his forehead, “Claire, looking glass!”  
“Ye'll not eat this night if I've nothing to do save be at yer beck and call!” Claire barked, “Meria cease yer gawking and get me glass!”  
The young girl at the end of the table trotted off to a tall set of shelves and soon returned with. a crude mirror which she placed in Vargas's hand, “ 'Ere now. Get a good look.”  
Simon canted his eyes to the right, staring in the glass at the mark. It was a polished silver plate, the reflected image wavy, slightly distorted but as his eyes focused, he looked away.  
“I...” his throat tightened, “It doesn't make sense..”  
Vargas brushed the page with his hand, “Ye say yer a Midgardian. I've no doubt ye speak the truth but I'm talking of yer heritage. Ages ago, our people traveled the realms freely and some stayed far from where they started out.”  
Simon could only shake his head again.  
“I'm traveling to Alfheim to see kin in a few days. Not far from the ancestral home live descendants of yer tribe. Mayhap I can convince them to pay ye a visit..”  
Simon sloshed the contents of his mug of cider onto the table, so swiftly did he stand up.  
“NO!....no....uh....Forgive me, please. This was so silly of me to come here...,” his hands were starting to shake, “If Stark...if someone came to the camp looking for me, there'd be questions,” he laughed once, hoped he could stop, “So many questions...”  
He steadied himself on the back of his chair as Vargas stood up, “I..you'll have to excuse me...I have to be getting back..” he'd been waiting for an appropriate time to ask after Lelia but even that thought had been driven from his mind.  
“Nonsense. The food is near to ready, ye must stay on for the meal.” Claire put a hand on her hip, the other brandishing a dripping spoon.  
“It's dark now. They'll be looking for me...” Simon edged closer to the door.  
“Ye don't believe in destiny do ye.” It was a statement not a question and Simon stopped, felt a chill shoot down his spine as he sought a response to Vargas.  
Vargas walked over to him but before he could say anything more, the front door swung wide and Lelia burst into the room, breathless.

 

Brenna knocked on the bedchamber door again, a little harder, her hand hovering above the handle when she heard muffled footsteps and the door slowly creaked open. Her father's pale face emerged from the darkness, a candle in his hand.  
“Bren?” he scanned the hallway, “What is wrong? Is it Brynn..?”  
Brenna swallowed hard, her tongue felt glued to the roof of her mouth, “Royal guards, at the door for you, Papa.”  
He sailed past her to the balcony, staring down into the foyer, Brenna close at his heels. Fen stood in the doorway, silhouetted by torchlight, the guard she'd spoken to now standing just inside the door, talking quietly with Hal. She turned to speak, found her father already halfway down the stairs, racing to catch up with him.  
The guard bowed to Loki, “Your Majesty, The King..,”  
“Wait, let us speak outside,” As Loki and the guard crossed the threshold, Brenna made to follow but Loki held up his hand, “Stay here.”  
He shut the door behind him as Fen rushed to the window, trying to see outside. Brenna took the lantern from the table beside the door and lit it.  
“What are they saying?” she whispered, “Can you hear them?”  
Fen frowned, “No, they are too quiet....here comes Papa!”  
Brenna backed away from the door as it opened and Loki sailed past them, “Take your brother and saddle the horses for your mother and myself with all haste. Hal, come with me.”  
“Papa, is something wrong?” Fen called as Loki started up the stairs.  
“Tend to the horses, quickly!” he shouted over his shoulder.  
Brenna and Fen exchanged glances, looked out the door to where the guards stood waiting.  
“Come, you heard Papa.” Brenna put her hand at Fen's back, pushing him ahead of her into the dooryard.

 

Eidra met him, a newly lit lantern in her hand, as he strode into the bedchamber, headed for the wardrobe.  
“Loki, what is it? Who is here?”  
He reached into the wardrobe and lifted a dress from one of the hooks, “Go change out of your robe. Hurry.”  
“Loki, will you not tell me what is wrong? You are milk white!”  
Loki paused, a tunic clutched in his hands, “The Allfather is dying.”  
Eidra set the lantern down on the floor, “The gods wept!  
She lifted her robe over her head, tossed it onto the bed and slipped into the shift he'd handed her as she watched him yank a pair of breeches up to his waist. He was still struggling to tie his breeches when she walked over to him, moving his trembling hands aside and finishing the task for him.  
“What will happen now?”  
“What must happen to us all in the end,” he pulled the tunic over his head, Eidra lifting his hair from underneath his collar, “Thor has summoned us to the palace.”  
Suddenly he began to shiver beneath her hands and she wrapped her arms around his waist.  
A light knock on the door brought her head up to see Fen step inside the bedchamber, “The horses are ready, Papa.”

 

Loki leaned closer to Brenna as she handed him Lightning's reins, “You are the eldest. Watch over your siblings until we return. Ingrid shall be here in the morning.”  
Brenna looked up into his face, alarmed, “Papa, please tell me what has happened.”  
“The Allfather is at the end of his journey..,”his jaw tightened convulsively, “The King has sent for us.”  
Brenna threw her arms around his neck, “Oh no!”  
His movements felt wooden to him as he rubbed her back, “It is the way of all things.”  
“Let me come with you that I might see Grandmother Frigga,” she pleaded into his ear but he shook his head.  
“Stay with the children until dawn. Ride to the palace when Ingrid arrives. Helgi is in no health to take care of the brood alone,” he kissed her cheek, “Please do this for me.”  
Brenna backed away as he mounted Lightning, “Yes, Papa. Give Grandmother my love.”  
Loki looked to Eidra who nodded, “I am ready.”  
The thunder of hooves shook the ground as they followed the soldiers down the lane to the road leaving Brenna and Fen standing in the moonlight.

 

“I rode as fast as I could, Da!” Lelia cried, tears streaking her face, “The King fell to his knees prostrate with grief outside the Allfather's chambers! They say Odin will soon see Valhalla!”  
Simon held up his hands, “Hold it, Odin is...he's dying? Is that possible?”  
Vargas whirled about, “What tripe do they feed ye on Midgard? Does death not visit ye as well?”  
Simon felt oddly detached, as if he was watching a scene play out before him, “But....the books, myths...gods...,” he paused, slapping his hands atop his head, “Good lord, I've got to tell Stark!”  
“Claire! Pack me a roast potato a hunk of good bread and a slice a mutton. I'll be riding with Lelia back to Asgard!”  
Simon stared out the open door into the evening, then back to Vargas.  
“And I'll be leading Simon back to camp..”

 

Colin tightened the strap around Agathon's belly, swearing as he fumbled to loop it under.  
“Here let me help,” Brenna pushed him aside, reaching under the horse.  
“Feck, why didn't anyone wake me?”  
When he'd stepped out into the hallway to ask Brenna what was going on and she'd delivered the news to him, he'd broken out in a cold sweat, so nervous it took him twice the time to get dressed.  
“My father had far more on his mind if you will forgive him!” Brenna retorted, giving the strap in her hand a hard yank, “And I do not see why you must leave right now. Can you not wait until morning?”  
Colin had considered it. The household consisted at the moment of himself, Brenna, the children and Helgi. Hal, Vesta and Ingrid wouldn't arrive until dawn but the encampment needed a heads up just in case. Thor had been willing to let the portals be built but what if Odin's last wish was to discontinue the portals or Thor was to change his mind when Odin passed on and roust the whole project back to Earth? He at least had to tell Tony.  
“I've a job to do and one aspect of it is informing Stark of any major developments in Asgard. I consider this a bit epic, don't you?”  
Brenna straightened up, “I consider it a tragedy.”  
Colin shut his eyes, “Fergive me, Jesus, yer right. It is tragic, but also is it very important. I'll ride out and back, alright?”  
Brenna nodded, “I will put on a kettle and wait up for you. I think I have slept as much as I am going to for the evening.”  
On impulse Colin reached out and hugged her, a gesture she promptly returned.   
“I'll be as quick as I can.” He mounted Agathon, spurring the horse into a gallop, thankful for the full moon as he headed down the road toward the longhouses.

 

Tony was sitting at his desk, chin in his hand as he hunched over his tablet, the other hand occupied with a glass of brandy when Colin knocked on the door and he looked up.  
“Come in,” Tony glanced at the tablet again, “It's kinda late for you to be out and about isn't it? Don't you country folk take to your beds at dusk? Gotta be up bright and early to plow the fields and all.”  
Colin frowned, taking a moment to catch his breath, “I was asleep until about a half hour ago but I thought you should know what's going on.”  
Tony sat forward as Colin dropped into the chair on the other side of the desk, “Why do I not like the sound of this?”  
“There were royal guards at the manor door tonight. It seems Odin is on his deathbed.”  
Tony took the glass of brandy and drained it, “Hasn't he had one foot in the grave for a while now?”  
“Aye, however tonight might be the night he gets the other pretty well set”  
Tony stood up, “Well then we'd better tell the encampment to be on their toes. Do you think we need to step up the watch?”  
Colin followed him out into the longhouse, “I don't foresee any trouble but it wouldn't hurt to cover yer arse.”  
“And in that, I am an expert.”

 

As they reached the perimeter of the camp, Simon heard the bullhorn. “ATTENTION PLEASE! ATTENTION PLEASE! ALL PERSONNEL ARE TO ASSEMBLE IN THE STAGING AREA BEHIND LONGHOUSE ONE IN FIFTEEN MINUTES FOR AN IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT!  
“ 'Twould seem yer people have already heard of the news.” Vargas whispered.  
People were starting to emerge from their tents, the longhouses and were making their way to the large staging area which was lit by solar floodlights.  
“Tony does things in a big way all the time. It doesn't necessarily mean they know about the Allfather.”  
“Aye and it doesn't mean they don't.”  
Simon stepped out of the brush onto the encampment road, “Thank you for guiding me back.”  
Vargas smiled, gestured to the dark woods behind him, “Not at all. Yer welcome ta visit any time.”  
A voice rose from the darkness, “Foster! Come on!”  
“I'll be right with you!” Simon replied, turning back to Vargas intending to ask him why Lelia had been at the palace but the great man had melted into the forest.  
“Damn,” Simon took off at a trot down the row of tents, “Damn.”


	29. 29

The preternatural quiet of the palace lay heavy on his ears. At the end of the hall before the great gilded doors stood Thor, his hands clasped before him, Jane to his left, gazing up at him. He could see Thor's eyes red and swollen even from a distance away. His brother had been crying and it unnerved him. Upon spying Loki, Thor opened his arm arms, catching him in a hard embrace.  
“Thank you for coming so swiftly, brother. Old Clotho has been at his side all night as has mother. There is naught to be done. Come pay your respects while he may yet hear you.”

When the door opened, Frigga looked up from her place beside the bed. She was sitting in a padded chair, a tome in her lap, holding Odin's hand. Loki was struck by how she seemed to have aged so over the past season but her resulting smile brightened her face, softening the lines.  
“Come forward, my sons, he knows you are here.”  
All at once Loki felt panic strike his heart as it had when he was a boy, knowing he must face his father for whatever reason, be it good or bad. Thor knelt beside the bed, his hands clasped below his chin as Frigga rubbed his shoulder. Loki felt a hand at the small of his back, tilting his head toward Eidra, thankful for the gesture.   
At the end of the bed stood a line of goðar, lips moving in silent prayer as Odin struggled to draw each breath, his mouth agape with the effort, emaciated frame buried beneath a mound of coverlets. He had started his journey to Valhalla in the body of a warrior but he would end it trapped within a useless husk. Thor stood and gestured for Loki. Through sheer force of will, he moved to the bedside where Thor draped his arm around his shoulders. He swallowed hard, feeling light-headed.  
“He will be resurrected in Valhalla and rule on high.” Thor murmured. Loki could only nod, his gaze slipping to Frigga who gave him a sad smile. All at once, he wrested himself from Thor's embrace, striding past Jane and Eidra who stood at the back of the room, through the bedchamber doors into the corridor, his heart pounding. He passed by the doors of his old bedchamber, kept walking until he reached the arboretum, slipping inside to sit at one of the benches by the central fountain in a cold sweat, head back, eyes closed.  
At the sound of footsteps on the marble floor, he brought his head up to see Frigga take a seat beside him. They said nothing for some time, watching the birds flit back and forth through the bushes, nibbling at the berries, perching on the edge of the fountain to gaze at them in return.  
“Is it wrong, mother? Is it wrong that I will mourn the passing of the once great king, not the father?”  
Frigga covered his hands with hers, “It was never easy for him. Trying to govern a kingdom, at the same time while raising sons who would one day ascend the throne..”  
“One son only.”  
She brought her hand to his cheek, “You are as worthy of the title of king as your brother. Do not doubt yourself and do not condemn him for giving the throne to Thor.”  
“It matters little now. What is done cannot be undone in deed, in word, in thought. All I learned as a boy, I learned through you.”  
“Your courage, your nobility, you garnered such qualities from the Allfather,” she stroked his hand, “You must know how he loved you both. Above all you must know how hard he tried to be a father,” her voice cracked as she lay her head on his shoulder, “..he tried.”  
He enfolded Frigga in his arms, the tears he shed not for Odin but for her anguish, her grief, the loss of a man she'd so desperately yearned to believe in. He felt a hand brush his forehead and opened his eyes to see Eidra standing before them.  
“Clotho sent me to fetch you. Come quickly.”

 

Colin reined in his horse, the others following suit as horns began to sound about the city. The guards standing on either side of the arched gateway drew off their helmets, turned to look up at the palace looming high overhead, the sun just peering over the horizon to light the spires with gold.  
“Sounds like the party's over huh.”   
Colin twisted in the saddle, “Aye, don't sound so flippant. The whole realm is going to be in mourning. You might want to practice a wee bit of tact.”  
Tony seemed about to answer when Simon coughed into his hand a few times and Tony turned to him, “Thanks for the vote of no confidence, Foster.”  
Simon held up his hands, “I said nothing.”  
Colin spurred Agathon forward, “Let's get inside, there's no use putting it off.”

 

Colin hung at the back of the throne room as Aesir, citizen, nobility continued to pour through the open double doors. His back ached along with his head and feet, he was hungry and tired. They'd been most of the day waiting for the King to make an appearance. He'd had to practically sit on Tony . who'd made at least a dozen circuits around the room, talking his way around each time. Colin had followed him the first couple of rounds then he'd stayed near one of the large columns talking quietly with Simon who himself seemed preoccupied as he continually scanned the room.  
“Ya know, why don't we just head back to the longhouses? I'll come back out tomorrow for the wake. What are the calling hours, do you know?” Tony had returned and was now trying to stretch himself above the heads of the crowd. Colin chuckled at the futility of his efforts.  
“They don't do funerals the same way we do. Besides, we're here out of respect. You'd expect the same for yourself would you not?” Simon chided him.  
Tony mimicked lighting a match, “Just stuff me in a box and throw me in an oven. I'll be dead anyway. I won't care.”  
“Well they do.”   
A horn sounded, cavernous in the hall and they all looked toward the dais where Thor, Jane, Loki and Eidra now stood.  
A hush blanketed the crowd as Thor raised his hands in the air, “My people, citizens of Asgard, the Allfather has passed from this life to the next. He will rule Valhalla in glory for all eternity!”  
A roar erupted from the throng.  
“We will sing his praises while we honor his life with the sjaund!”  
Another roar.  
“What's that?” Tony whispered to Colin.  
Colin leaned over, “It's the ritual drinking and feasting for the deceased. It happens seven days after they depart this life.”  
“Seven days? From today? We've got another group coming in then.” Tony slapped his hands atop his head.  
“Well we may have to postpone it,” Simon sighed, “It'd be disrespectful not to....mourn...with...”  
Colin looked at Simon, following his gaze to spy Lelia leading Trena through the throng of people and his stomach clenched.  
“Okay let's put it this way. I have a schedule I'm supposed to keep as closely as possible according to home base. They're going to ask a lot of questions if I tell them we have to hold off on the next batch.”  
“So tell them the truth,” Colin muttered, exasperated, “Tell them the big man bought the farm and so as not to start an inter-dimensional war, we're going to do as they do. A week isn't going to make much difference, for fuck sake.”  
Tony whirled about, “Good, fine, then I guess you won't mind delivering the news.”  
“What?”  
Tony rubbed his hands together, “I'll tell the big guy about putting off the next influx of Earth's finest and you can go back to New York to inform Fury...yeah...okay done deal.”  
“But I don't want to go back to...!”  
Tony held up his hand, “Where's Simon gone off to?”

 

“Excuse me..,” Simon elbowed his way through the crowds, “Pardon me.”   
He didn't want to call out her name, rather he only wished to catch up with her. He didn't even know if he could bring himself to talk to her again. She'd been so agitated at the cottage and they'd left in such a hurry he'd not had a chance. Vargas had told him on the way to the encampment that Lelia was the new aide to the palace seer, her Aunt Trena, but said little else about it. He was almost even with them when the woman she was guiding through the crowd turned her head, “Lelia, turn and greet your friend. He is eager to see you.”  
Simon stopped, rooted to the spot as Lelia spun around.  
“Simon?”  
He could only nod.  
“What are ye doing here?”  
“Odin,” his tongue felt like a brick.  
“And much more,” Trena joined in, “It is all coming clearer.”  
Simon scanned the throng searching for Tony and Colin, yelping as Trena's hand patted the top of his head.  
“Melos was tall for his race. This you have inherited.”  
The chatter of the people about him faded into the background. “Tall...I'm...you've mistaken...”  
Lelia held a finger to her lips as Trena drew closer. He was feeling dizzy. If she didn't do what she intended to pretty soon, he could ensure she was going to be kneeling on the ground to do it. He stumbled backward, bumping into a couple of men.  
“Excuse me,” He mumbled as Trena's hands roamed his face.  
“The four are returning. What does fate have in store for the nine realms?”  
Simon's eyes darted to Lelia.  
“I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about....”  
“The keepers of the Runes Elemental. First the tall one, now you.” Trena clapped her hands as if she'd been surprised with a much yearned for gift.  
Simon backed away, felt two hands at his back and Tony's voice in his ear, “You shouldn't wander off like that all the time.”  
Simon put a hand to his mouth, parting the way with the other as he darted through the crowd the way he'd come.  
“Pardon him, he's got a weak constitution,” Tony nodded to the two women before following along behind Simon.

 

The stable boy handed Agathon's reins to Colin as Loki shook his head, “Tell Stark you cannot go.”  
“I've told him I don't want to but he says Fury will want to know about the delay.”  
Loki hauled himself up into Lightning's saddle, “Damn Fury! Damn Stark! Damn and to Hel with them! There is much to be done before the funeral, the house will be in turmoil with comings and goings and now our friend must disappear,” he steered Lightning beside Agathon, “What if they wish you to stay on Midgard.”  
“Who is staying on Midgard?”  
Eidra had entered the stables sending the stable boy racing to the stall to saddle Blackberry.  
“The sun is nearly set. Where have you been?” Loki cried.  
“I was saying my goodbyes to the Queen. Who is staying on Midgard?”  
Loki looked to Colin, “No one is staying on Midgard. Colin must travel there to tell Fury of Odin's death.”  
“Oh dear,” Eidra gasped, “How long shall you be away?”  
Colin couldn't help smiling. Though he'd been in the household for three months now, he wondered at times whether he was more of a nuisance than anything else. It warmed his heart to hear them worry so about his absence.  
“Milady, I will be as quick as possible.”  
“Were it that I could travel with you, I would.” Loki steered Lightning over to Blackberry's side as Eidra pulled herself into her saddle.  
“Yer Highness, you've plenty to do here but yer concern is most appreciated. I'll leave tomorrow. Tony wants me to use the portal to return so I'll get a chance to try out the new ride.”  
“May the Gods protect you,” Eidra murmured.  
Colin spied Tony and Simon at the far end of the stables, “I'll be fine. If you can't trust yer employer, who can you trust?”

 

Almost immediately as he stepped through the portal, Colin felt disoriented, out of place. Two young agents stood at the edge of the ramp, hands behind their backs, waiting. As he reached them, he realized he actually recognized one of them. They'd met when he'd first joined up as an agent in Dublin. The man seemed timeless, the only evidence that time had not indeed left him behind were the deep crows feet around his eyes and a slight jowling of the cheeks. Otherwise he was still the same legend Colin remembered.  
“Agent Coulson.”  
“Agent Denehy. Welcome home. The director is waiting in the ready room.”

 

He was sitting at one end of a black topped oval table reading the New York Times, sleeves rolled up to reveal arms scarred from countless skirmishes but when he dropped the paper down and stared at Colin as if he'd walked into his apartment and sat down at his breakfast nook, Colin was immediately respectful.  
“Director, fergive me for having to disturb you.”  
“Do I look disturbed?”  
Colin bit the inside of his cheek, “Not at all, sir.”  
From the corner of his eye, he saw Coulson glance at the floor with a grin.  
“And you'd be correct on any other day but your presence here tells me I'm about to be.”  
“I sincerely hope not, sir.”  
Fury waved to the table, “Sit down and disturb me then. I've got a full agenda this morning and I'd rather tackle the biggest problems first.”  
“Well,” Colin settled into a chair a few seats away from him, “It's not exactly a problem. It could be if we're not careful.”  
Fury leaned forward, elbows on the table, “Are you trying to tell me how to do my job? And another thing...why is Lily not here instead of you. You're supposed to be keeping tabs on Loki.”  
Colin kept his face impassive, “I'm supposed to be a liaison.”  
“As an agent, your job is two-fold.” Fury folded the newspaper.  
“Three-fold as it seems. I was sent here by Stark to tell you that Odin has passed away.”  
Fury stood up, planting his hands on the table, “Thor's father is dead? If this is a practical fucking joke, someone's gonna lose their goddamn job!”  
“It's no joke, sir. Yesterday morning around dawn. That's why I'm here. We're going to have to delay the next group.”  
Fury sat down heavy in the chair, “What the hell for?”  
Colin stopped short of asking him if he'd ever had to bury a loved one, “They have a period of mourning, rituals to perform, a funeral and if you want a comparison...ask yerself what the country would do if the president died.”  
Fury chuckled, “Probably have an all night party with this one.”  
“Maybe at home, but in public...”  
Fury rubbed his bald head, “So out of respect..”  
Colin saw Coulson nod.  
“...we have to wait until the old man is buried?”  
Colin put his hands in the air, “More like cremated and feted but yes.”  
“How long?” Coulson piped up.  
“I'd say ten days all told.”  
“Why couldn't they be Jewish?” Fury groaned, “I got a group of people who've been here almost two weeks already. Now I have to tell them it's going to be about another two weeks until they can leave. You wanna trade jobs?”  
“Not on yer life,” Colin shook his head, “I've a few things to do before I return if it's alright.”  
Fury eyed him, “The facility is at your disposal. You want a change of clothes before you go traipsing around the building?”  
Colin looked down at himself, realizing he'd gotten up that morning and dressed as he had been dressing for the past three months. He fingered his tunic, “No sir, begging yer pardon but this is a lot more comfortable than the suit.”  
“You just have to have the right tailor,” Coulson chuckled.  
“I'll keep that in mind when I come home,” Colin stood up, “May I be excused sir?”  
Fury waved a hand at him, “Yeah, you're dismissed. Tell Lily I want her report on my desk as soon as possible...and yours when you return.”  
“Yes, sir.”

 

“Hello, Ma?......fer chrissakes, don't scream. Yer gonna give Da a heart attack.”  
Colin leaned back in the chair. Coulson had given him the use of his office and while he'd waited to be connected to Helen's Bay half a world away, he'd had a look around. The office was spartan, neat as a pin and for a moment he wondered if Coulson was related to Simon. There were a few pictures on the desk. One of a lovely young woman with a cello between her legs, another picture of a red car. Though he couldn't tell the year or make, he was sure it was vintage. He had never been much of an enthusiast. Cars were to get from one place to another. The computer was the latest style, a clear screen one could adjust to be opaque or transparent with a crisp display.  
“How's grandad?......good, give him hugs for me when you see him. Tell him I'm safe, tell him the states are.....no, no don't let him think his grandson has gone mental, leave it be Ma......”  
Colin stood up, walked to the window to peer down at the streets of Manhattan, “Have I what?...not in the slightest. It's as safe as yer backyard.....yes.......no wild beasts.....,” He bit his tongue, “No, no magic....you've got to stop reading the tabloids, Ma.....,” he detested lying but if she was to get any sleep at night, he would lie as much as possible to save her sanity, “Nine more months.......it's not long......NO!.....Ma it's against the rules....no fraternizing with the womenfolk.......yeah, that'd be grand. You find someone and tell her I'm an agent then all she wants me fer is the suit.........yes Ma......yes........yes.......listen, I've got to return pretty soon, let me talk to Da for a tick.....I love you, too....I will...”  
Colin listened to the phone change hands, “Da, hey don't be letting her get hold of them mags.....they're only out for the sensational. She's gonna end up in the ward in a straight jacket......I'm fine, missing all of you......it's......Da, it's like nothing you've ever seen.......it's fecking incredible..........It's like stepping back into the middle ages.........I've been placed with a family.......I can't tell you.....I'm sorry. I'll tell you when I come home okay?.......okay.......I will. Trust me, I couldn't be safer.......loye ya, Da. Keep Ma sane....bye.”  
Colin leaned back in the chair and draped his arm over his eyes, struck at once by how weary he was. Finally he sat forward and tapped the screen. He'd been thinking about this for the past couple days though the present situation had thrown him for a loop temporarily.  
“Records.”  
The screen flashed a passkey box and Colin entered his agent I.D. The box flashed green and the screen changed to reveal the same red car in the photograph on Coulson's desk.  
“He must love that car,” Colin muttered, “Death records.”  
“Location?” the screen replied in a particularly throaty female voice.  
“Helen's Bay, Ireland.”  
Colin watched the screen fill with a picture of the main street in his little village. Small folders beneath the picture read “Birth”, “Death”, “Census” and more though he only wanted one folder at this point.   
“How far do current records go back?”  
“Question not understood. Clarify.”  
Colin sighed, “What is the first date of entry?”  
“Specify parameters.”  
“Ya daffy bitch.” he mumbled as he closed his eyes, concentrating, “Um....the year.....fifteen ninety. Do records exist for the year fifteen-ninety A.D.?”  
“Yes.”  
“Yer fucking kidding me.....”  
“Please restate the request.”  
Colin laughed out loud, “Do records exist for the year......twelve twenty-five A.D.?  
“Records are not concurrent. The data for this year is extremely limited.”  
Colin glanced at the office door then back at the screen, “First instance of the last name Denehy.”  
The computer was silent for a moment, “Denehy, variant spelling, D..E..N..E..H..A..Y...”  
“No, narrow search to Denehy, D..E..N..E..H..Y, earliest instances.”  
“Denehy, Helen's Bay, Ireland. Earliest record fourteen eighty-eight. Denehy, Colm, deceased, December twelfth, fourteen eighty-eight. Source, parish records...”  
“Birth record of Colm Denehy.” he was starting a headache right behind his eyes.  
“There is no recorded birth record for Denehy, Colm in Helen's Bay, Ireland.”  
Colin sat forward, “Is there a birth record for Colm Denehy anywhere in Ireland?”  
“Yes.”  
“But it might not be the same person. There's thousands of Denehys in Ireland.”  
He put his head down on the desk. He felt stupid. The seer was clearly crazy no matter what Lelia said. He pushed away from the desk and was about to stand up but something stopped him. He looked at the screen.  
“Helen's Bay, Ireland. Before fourteen eighty-eight A.D. Any instances of the surname Denari, D..E..N..A..R..I.”  
The computer was silent and Colin had to laugh to himself again. He stood up, reaching for the screen to log off.  
“Yes”  
Colin stared at the screen for long minutes before he was able to speak, his voice hoarse, “List instances.”  
“Denari, Colm. Date of birth, fourteen forty-one, Helen's Bay, Ireland.” on the screen was an image of a yellowed piece of parchment, the script flowing, barely legible with age.  
“Are Colm Denehy and Colm Denari the same person?” He had to let himself back down into the chair before his legs gave way.  
“Specify.”  
“Did Colm Denari change his name to Denehy?”  
The computer was silent again and Colin wanted to scream, would have if he didn't think the whole floor would come running.  
“According to parish records, a name change was recorded in fourteen forty-five by the father listed in the birth record as Denari, Volundr...V..O..”  
“Stop.”  
His stomach did a flip. If he didn't ask the next question, he would surely go mad.  
“Lineage....ancestry. Is it possible to trace the line forward?”  
“Maternal or paternal?”  
“Both.” He couldn't look at the screen.  
“Specify date.”  
“Until current time.”  
The computer went silent and Colin put his hands to his mouth.  
“Paternal line last known direct descendant, Jackson, Clancy, born Dublin, Ireland, nineteen fifty-five. Died Chicago, Illinois, two thousand eleven.”  
There was a short pause, “Maternal line last known direct descendant, Denehy, Colin, Born Belfast, Ireland two thousand five..”

Colin wrenched the door out of Coulson's grasp, nearly pulling him into the room.  
“Mister Denehy are you okay?”  
Colin nodded, felt like he couldn't stop, “Fine sir, I'm fine...parents.”  
“They're alright?”  
He was going to hyperventilate right here, in front of one of the agency's finest agents. He started to count in his head, “They.....miss me....and....I'm ready to return to Asgard.”  
He'd never been so unsure of what to do in his life but he knew where he wanted to be at that moment and it was a world away from New York.  
“We'll get you to the portal then and send you off.”  
Coulson turned around and headed down the corridor. With a last glance at the blank computer screen, Colin followed suit.


	30. 30

_Assignment: 64379-01  
Location: Asgard _

_Agent: Colin M. Denehy  
Date: 9/3/29_

_I returned to Asgard yesterday to a virtually empty house save for Hal and Vesta. I decided then to ride for the palace after Hal informed me the family, en masse, had set out for the city shortly after I'd headed for the longhouses. There is much to do to prepare for the funeral rites so I am told and however irreverent it might seem, I wanted to see the rituals being performed in person. At the very least it would distract me from the mass of confusion that was my brain at the moment.  
Along the shores of the great western ocean at the farthest edge of the city proper lies a half circle of six stone ships facing out across the water. At their tips lie another stone ship which dwarfs the other six in sheer size. Easily three of the smaller ships could fit inside the larger one. If you want a reference to what I'm describing, picture a miniature Stonehenge like structure, about waist high, in the shape of a longboat, the stones embedded into the ground. The gooar, or Asgardian priests if you will, were inside the stone ship at dawn, burning incense and herbs to purify the ground where the funeral bier would be. A new set of garments is required to be made for the former king to wear upon his entrance into Valhalla and when it was made known he was turning for the worse, the seamstresses were already at work. In fact, I found Loki in their workshop, inspecting the robes when I arrived.   
I was shocked to see his long wavy hair cropped to his shoulders. He gave me a sad smile, explaining that men sheared their hair short to demonstrate humility as a symbol of respect for the dead. There are other rituals connected with this funeral that will seem downright barbaric. Case in point; at the seamstress was an older man I recognized as Odin's houseboy, or valet if you will. Looking to be in his late fifties, he carries himself with the bearing of one who was brought up amongst the gentry. He too was being fitted for a fine set of clothes. Loki nudged me and tilted his head toward the man. “Raimun will follow the Allfather to Valhalla so he may serve him in the afterlife as he has on this plane.”   
Of course I had to ask how exactly he was to follow Odin.  
He then explained to me that Raimun would spend the day before the funeral drinking the finest wines, eating the choicest foodstuffs, his every whim seen to.  
I was starting to see where this was going. Like being feted at a retirement party....or if you like, a prisoner receiving whatever he wished for a last meal.  
Loki continued on, telling me Raimun would then be brought to a special tent for the evening set up near the stone ships where he would be presented with a number of beautiful women to satisfy his pleasure for the night. When I remarked servicing the women alone would half kill me, he laughed for the first time since Odin's passing.   
“He may well have time to sleep after all,” Loki chuckled, “You see, Raimun prefers the attention of men. I told him earlier to take the more manly women first and he roared with laughter.”   
At dawn, he would be plied with yet more wine until he was insensate. Then he would be given a sword to hold and one of the Aesir, possibly even Thor himself, would run him through. Raimun had never fought in battle, and so Valhalla being the resting place of warriors, one had to seem the part. Then his body would be placed upon his own bier within one of the smaller stone ships to be consumed by fire with the Allfather, thus would he follow Odin to Valhalla.  
I allowed as it was a bit gruesome, truth be told. Raimun overheard me and joined us, reassuring me that it was his choice to join his master in the afterlife. He was doing so out of his own free will. I asked if he was afraid. His reply?  
“I am frightened only at the...em.... transition from Asgard to Valhalla but I know what awaits us in those golden halls. I am ready.”  
Lord, if I could someday meet my own demise with such strength of conviction, I could well nigh die merrily but please don't take it as a hint. I am most certainly NOT ready yet.  
I left Loki with the seamstress to look for the rest of the household. The children, when I found them, were delighted to see me. I suspect I'm a welcome distraction from the somber tone of their elders, the whole city if the truth be known. They were all gathered in the royal nursery with Prince Lóriði, Helgi, Eidra and the Queen who is beginning to show a bit. The king has sequestered himself alone to meditate. I doubt Loki will be in a disposition to do the same. He seemed rather more upset than grief stricken but I kept my observations to myself feeling it would be rude to pry.  
Brenna and Fen adopted a more serious tone in keeping with the occasion even though they hadn't been very close to their grandfather, Fen quietly played at dice with Gunnar while Brenna sat upon a window bench reading a tome. In the time I've spent with the family and through sheer observation I've gathered that Odin had little or nothing to do with any of the children. Even Prince Lóriði who, for a time was considered an heir to the throne of Asgard, seemed little affected by Odin's passing though I'll allow he's probably too young to understand anyway. According to Loki, Brenna was fully fourteen seasons the first time she'd met the Allfather. I thought to ask him why he'd stayed away from his family for so long but his only reply was that there'd been a rift in the family so I didn't push the issue. Nevertheless, Odin had already been largely bedridden and half out of his mind by then.  
I wondered aloud if dementia hadn't something to do with his uncaring attitude. Of course then I had to explain what dementia was. Loki gave a derisive laugh at this, assuring me dementia had nothing to do with Odin's seeming apathy, rather he was cold by nature and that a greater blow to the children would be to lose their grandmother, Queen Frigga who lavished love and attention on them when they came to visit . By comparison, I could see the adoration in Loki's face when he spoke of Frigga. He worshipped the woman.  
I told them nothing of what I discovered about my heritage while in New York. Whether it was fear of being thought of as crazy, or taken seriously, I don't know. I don't even know myself what I'm thinking. The whole impossibility of being related to someone from another realm, of having anything akin to magic in my past just boggles the mind. I mean what would they do? Would the Asgardians grant me some sort of dual citizenship? Would Fury pull me out of Asgard as a risk? What if the Asgardians hated my many greats grandad and wound up stringing me from the highest tree? I mean if he ran away to Midgard, there had to be a reason, right? I've considered looking through the immense library here in the palace for clues to my heritage only I'm afraid of what I might find. I need to think more on it. For now preparations for the funeral will take up a large part of our time. Afterward, it's back to work. With any luck I'll not have the time to worry._

_Colin.._

 

The music drowned out all other sound, the thunder of the base palpable in the air. Eris snaked through the mass of sweaty bodies, sequins, leather, lace up boots, stilettos, silk in an effort to reach the bar on the other side of the club floor.  
The group had been called to assemble in the large conference room at nine a.m that morning where they'd been told their trip to Asgard would be delayed another two weeks due to circumstances beyond their control. Frustrated, bored, having been cooped up in the hotel for the previous two weeks and unwilling to crack her book for yet another spinsterly evening alone, she'd slipped out of the hotel aided by a couple of valets she had, for want of a better word, befriended.  
At the very least, the extra days gave her time to figure out how she was going to get through the portal without being seen. Not that she was concerned about being seen per se; that part was a given but she planned on making it seem like she'd chickened out before they even left. That was going to take some doing. They'd been given a tour of the portal which had been built in the staging room on sub-level 2 at Stark Tower and she already had a plan turning in her head, it just needed a bit more work.  
On the stage at the front of the dance floor, spotlights had popped on, glinting off a polished metal pole set center stage. Eris sighed. At the very least she could be making some cash right now. Her funds were running a little low. She leaned over the bar and waggled a finger at the bartender who flashed her a wide smile, “Be right with ya, baby.”  
She glanced over her shoulder as the music started again, louder than before. Alex slipped from behind the black silk curtains at the back of the stage. She was dressed in a backless white chemise studded with rhinestones, a pair of white fishnet stockings held up with garters, and a pair of white stilettos. Against her dark skin, the effect was dazzling. Eris watched her work the pole for a few moments until the voice in her ear asked, “What'll ya be having?”  
Eris turned back to face the bar, “Long Island iced tea.”  
The bartender picked up a tall glass, “She's hard to take your eyes off from isn't she?”  
“No shit.”  
He set the glass on the counter and grabbed a bottle of tequila, “You ever do any dancing?”  
Any other time she'd tell him to fuck off just on principle but two weeks of playing nice had left her a little punch drunk.  
“Why? Do I look like I have?”  
The bartender's grin widened further, “If you ain't, you ought to try it. You got the body for it.”  
She leaned back from the bar, running her hands slowly down her ribs to her hips, her fingers tugging ever so slightly on the hem of her black mini dress, “You really think so?”  
So intent was he on watching her, he spilled a bit of tequila on the bar. She giggled as he quickly readjusted his aim, “I'd take that as a yes.”  
“If you stay after last call, you can take a shot at it,” he slid the drink across the bar to her, holding up his hand as she reached into her bra for her money, “On the house.”  
“Thanks,” She winked at him and glanced at Alex who was gearing up for her finale, “Maybe I will. I could always use some extra cash.” She held up her glass and sauntered off into the crowd toward the stage door, standing off away from the bouncer who was eying her with a stern look on his face. Alex nodded to him as she stepped down from the platform, “She's okay Dallas.”  
He opened the door and she followed Alex back stage. They passed a petite blond in a fishnet suit on her way to the stage. She smiled at Alex, glaring at Eris.  
“Don't take it personally, honey,” Alex shot back to Eris as she opened the door to the dressing rooms, “You know jealousy when you see it. I didn't expect to see you here.”  
Eris dropped into an overstuffed chair, “I had to get out. I've had enough of rules and shit to last me forever.”  
Alex bent over her dressing table to look at herself in the mirror, “And yet you still got a ticket for this carnival ride? You think it's gonna get any better on the other side? They ain't gonna just drop you off and say go on, get yo' ass outta here. You gonna be marching to their beat.”  
“I told you,” Eris leaned forward to join Alex's reflection in the mirror, “I've got a plan.”  
“I know, I know, you gots a plan but I keep expectin' to be reading about y'all being thrown in jail.”  
“Since when did you start reading the papers?” Eris smirked, “Anyway, I ain't ever been on the inside and I don't intend to be either. Can't catch what you can't see.....hey, the bartender told me to stay after hours and dance for him, see if I'm any good. What you think?”  
Alex turned and sat on the corner of the dressing table, “Girl, you know what he want to see.”  
Eris gave her leg a shove, “Well shit, I wasn't born yesterday. Question is will he pay good?”  
“He might, he the owner of this dive. The money's alright for us dancers.”  
Eris leaned back and crossed her legs at the ankle, “Good, I need cash. A pretty mouth only goes so far.”

 

“It's so sad,” Beth whispered, “I've lost family. My granny and grampy both in the same year.”  
Gretten gazed up at the stars, “It is the way of all worlds.”  
After they'd finished cleaning up from the evening meal to they stole out the back door to sit on the stone steps. The chill of autumn had begun to take hold of the nights and Beth edged closer to Gretten.  
“No matter how well prepared you think you are, though, you're never quite willing to let go.”  
Gretten lifted her hand, patted it, “Perhaps because you do not believe you will see them again.”  
Beth looked at her grandmother's ring, “I don't know if I do. That's one thing you Asgardians seem to have in abundance, the unshakable faith that we continue on to the next plane.”  
“Of course we do,” he squeezed her hand, “What about your beliefs? What do you think happens after we depart this existence?”  
Beth peered into the darkness, “Well I was always taught that good people go to Heaven, bad people go to Hell but we're talking catholicism.”  
“Is that what you call your religion?”  
She locked her arm in the crook of his elbow and laughed, “No that's what I call my daddy's religion. I'm on the fence. Maybe that's why dying scares me so...because I don't really believe in the afterlife.”  
He kissed her temple, “Here in this realm the Asgardians believe those good people who die will go to Helgafell, the warriors to Valhalla, the unsavory and the evil go to Hel.”  
Beth could barely make out his silhouette against the fading light of dusk but she turned to stare in his direction, “You believe in Hell here?”  
“Likely not the same place as you do but yes,” Gretten stood up from the steps with a groan, “Oh the cold chills me to the bone. Woman, let us not dwell on such sad things. We will have sadness in abundance on the morrow.”  
She took his hand and let him haul her up to her feet.  
“I wish I could warm your bones tonight,” she whispered as he opened the door for her.  
“Another night, my sweet roll. We need all the rest we can get. Tomorrow will be a very long day.”

 

“Hush, boy.” Loki patted Lightning's neck as the stable hand moved the bales of fresh hay about in the rear of the wagon. Even the horses were uneasy, sensing the somber tone of the day. The household had awakened devoid of the usual banter. The younger children clung close to Ingrid or Eidra. Fen had followed him about, helping him get the horses ready. Brenna had overslept, complaining of a sick headache.  
Now as everyone filed from the house and he started to help load the wagon, he began to feel anxious, watching Eidra lift Astrid up to Ingrid in the wagon bed. When she caught his gaze, she smiled at him and in that moment all he wished was for them to be seated in their chairs at the dining table eating their morning meal without a single care.  
“Papa, Agathon is ready.”  
Loki took the reins from Fen's hand, patted his shoulder, “Thank you. Go help your mother.”  
The sky was beginning to lighten as they made the main road and turned toward the palace, joining a procession of other wagons, carts, people making their way to the city. 

The sun hovered over the high mountains when at last they rolled into the south courtyard. He gazed about at the servants readying the bier that would bear the Allfather's body all the way to the shore of the western sea.  
“Yer Highness.”  
He spied Colin walking toward him as he dismounted.  
“I was up half the night talking to Stark,” Colin groaned, “The other half I couldn't sleep so I rode here early this morning to wait for you.”  
They clasped forearms, “ 'Tis a pity you should witness such a sobering aspect of Asgard but I am grateful for your company.”  
“At yer service, Yer Highness” Colin called, giving Brenna his hand to steady her as she jumped from the wagon.  
A royal guardsman came to attention before them, “The King awaits your presence in the royal chambers, your Highness.”  
Loki nodded to Eidra then gestured for the guard, “See to my family until I return,” Taking a deep breath, he started for the stone steps leading to the open palace doors.


	31. 31

Colin hefted Cait higher on his back, “Sweetheart, you've got to loosen yer grip on me neck a bit.”  
“Sorry,” came her reply in his ear.   
The walk from the city to the shore of the Western sea was much too far for the children to manage. Brenna had Astrid on her hip, Eidra carried a sleeping Brynn on her shoulder, trading on and off with Ingrid. A horse had been provided for Helgi who would also have been left behind. Edie rode with her.  
Low clouds obscured the sun, threatening rain, darkening the skies early. Torches at the head of the procession danced wildly in the wind coming off the sea, illuminating the bier as it swayed from side to side, borne upon the shoulders of the Royal Guards. Upon a bed of barley, the Allfather lay dressed in his battle armor, his red cloak wrapped around him, his sword in his hands. Ahead of the bier walked the gooar, carrying, suspended from a pole by a long chain, a small brazier containing the fire which would be used to light the funeral pyre. Following behind the bier were the members of the High Council, the Aesir, the court.  
There hung about the whole line a reverent silence. With each step, the hiss of waves upon the shore, thundering breakers grew louder. Loki turned to Thor, whispering something to him, receiving a nod in response. Soon they began to trek up a short hill. At the crest, they would be looking down at the stone ships and the tent where Raimun had been prepared for his journey with Odin.  
Brenna drew even with Colin, smiling up at him.  
Colin leaned close, keeping his voice low, “Before we set out, Stark took me aside and said, these are the things we shouldn't mention to the boys back home, he's worried they'll think yer more barbaric than they already do.”  
Brenna put her hand aside of Astrid's head, stroking her hair, “We are no more barbaric in our rituals than the Midgardians with their wars, the crimes they commit against each other, the disrespect they show their elders...”  
Colin sighed. Now was not the time for debate, “Aye, let's say we've both had our bouts.”  
“Agreed.”  
“I'd have been after keeping the kiddies at home for this one though.”  
Brenna hesitated, “.....We do not shield our children from the reality of life. It is cruel to hide them away then release them, innocent, into the world.”  
They were pushing onward up the hill, nearly at the top. He let Cait down to walk a bit, holding her hand.  
“When my Grandmother died, my Ma made me stay with me Da at home while they waked her at her house. She was of a mind I'd have plenty of time to learn about death as I grew older. She coddled me, would pitch a fit if I went out in bad weather, had me in bed with a thermometer in me mouth if I so much as sneezed. Drove Da mad. I guess it's largely the reason I became an agent, so I wouldn't always be safe, so I could live life on the edge. It's just this ritual yer father explained to me...” “It is Raimun's sacrifice which troubles you.”  
Colin nodded, “Aye, call me weak, soft-hearted but I'd keep the wee ones well away from that sight. There's a good many things I've seen in me life that never left me.”  
At last they crested the hill and Colin paused to take in the scene. A hundred yards distant on the shore of a sheltered cove surrounded by high cliffs were the stone boats he'd come upon a few days before. There was a damp chill to the air and the steady wind had whipped the ocean waters into angry waves. The sides of the large tent some distant from the stone boats flapped furiously, the flames of the torches at the entrance danced indignantly about and the guards who snapped to attention when they spied the funerary procession.  
Eidra handed Brynn, who immediately set to whimpering, to Ingrid before they started down the hill, planting a kiss on his forehead.  
“Mama must go with Papa for a bit,” she murmured before she hurried ahead to join Loki and the rest of the family.  
More of the procession had caught up with them now. King Freyr and the members of the High Court flowed past him. When their contingent had arrived in the city before the march to the sea, Colin hadn't had more than a moment to study Eldan who had greeted Eidra with not much more than warm cordiality. He could see a marked resemblance her eyes and her smile, a resemblance which extended to Brenna but other than that, Eldan seemed quite aloof, nixing any notion he'd had to ask the man about family history. He definitely didn't seem like the chatty type. The next party, however, was another matter altogether. He felt a hand at his shoulder.  
“Ah gods, what a tragedy to meet again under such sad circumstances.” Velos muttered.  
“Aye, 'tis. One hopes the feast'll resemble an Irish wake.”  
“How so?”  
Colin lifted Cait to his hip and continued down the hill apace with Velos and the contingent from Muspelheim.  
“My people..” Colin looked up ahead at the Alfari, “...my people don't mourn death as much as they celebrate the life of the one who's passed on.” Thems that walk in will like as crawl out in the end if you ken my meaning.”   
“It is a lively event then?”  
“You might call it that.”  
The people kept filtering into the cove, groups from all over the realms until the hillside was covered all the way down to the edge of the beach. Aesir, Vanir, Fire Jotunn, even the svartalfari, the dark elves, had sent a small band to honor their occasional adversary. And there were the citizens themselves, nobility, servant, merchants, workers, farmers, all assembled to see the Allfather on his way to Valhalla. Colin recalled passing the large tents they'd erected outside the city walls to accommodate the mourners, now he could see why they'd gone to such lengths.  
Brenna set Astrid down, “I will be back. Stay with Colin.”  
Astrid backed tightly to his legs, nodding as Cait took her hand, “I will watch her Bren.”  
Brenna took Colin's hand, squeezed it then picked her way through the crowd to stand beside Fen as the bier was carried into the large stone ship in the center. When the bier was in position, servants came forward carrying items. Amphorae, a cask of mead, haunches of venison, a basket of barley, and more, a carved wooden box containing his prized possessions. His hnefatafl board, his quill and ink pot, rings. The procession continued until the pile of wood beneath the bier was heaped with anything and everything that the dead King would require in the afterlife.  
“Kind of Egyptian don't you think?”  
Colin looked to his right to see Stark standing there, hands on his hips, Simon beside him looking sadder than he should have been considering the fact he'd never met the former King.  
“Guess it goes to show you can take it with you after all,” Stark smiled, “Not that I'm in a hurry to find out. Oh and Fury wants your report on this party as soon as possible.”  
“I'll get it to Lily.”  
Colin smirked as he watched Stark stand on tiptoe trying to see over the heads of the people before him, “He asked me if you would make a good candidate for bringing the new group through the portal so I told him yes.”  
“What the fuck..!” Colin cried, caught Cait's stare and lowered his voice, “What the hell did you tell him that for? I don't want to go back to New York again and I don't want to use the bleedin' portal!”  
Tony clapped him on the back, “Sorry, It's not up for debate.”  
Colin leaned closer to Stark, “I was given the assignment of liaison. I can't do me job if I'm a world away.”  
“Take it easy now. You'll be in New York two days tops...ah geez!” Tony stumbled forward, his hands at the back of his head where Helgi had planted her foot.  
“The two of you are downright disrespectful! Arguing at a time like this. Colin, help me down from this nag.”  
“Begging yer pardon, Helgi. Here now come over with that leg...”  
Simon was beside him at once, steadying the horse when a low blatt filled the air. The gooar held long horns high over the entrance of the tent. Colin lent one arm to Helgi, his other hand taken by Cait as they moved closer to watch the proceedings.  
The flaps of the tent were thrown open by the guards. Raimun emerged slowly, a bit unsteady, his face impassive. He seemed in a trance. Flanking him were two young men lending their support and Colin smiled, fervently hoping Raimun's final hours had been spent as he wished.  
They led him between the stones of one of the smaller ships where a smaller simple wooden bier had been erected. One of the priests approached him and started to chant.   
Colin looked at Helgi, “I'm still learning. They're speaking in the ancient tongue, right?”  
“Yes, my boy. The gooar are thanking him for following his master to Valhalla. The gods will welcome him with open arms and he will want for nothing....”  
The priest took a sash of red and gold, draping it over Raimun's shoulders, then, handing him a sword, he gestured to one of the guards who had followed them to the edge of the stones.   
Colin bent down and picked up Astrid, “Put yer head on my shoulder, darlin'.”   
He pulled Cait closer to him, turned to see Ingrid had squatted to the ground to gather Brynn and Edie to herself. Cait was hiding her face against Colin's stomach.   
_“Damn me if you like but this is too much for babes,”_ he thought to himself as the guard drew his sword from his scabbard. Loki and Eidra exchanged glances as the guard drew back, shouted more words he couldn't understand and thrust the sword forward through Raimun's chest.  
Colin winced, expecting a scream fit to rend the heavens but Raimun uttered no more than a grunt, his eyes widening as if he had finally wakened from his dream. The light in his eyes, however, was short lived as he was borne to the ground, his body giving a weak shudder before it lay still.  
“The guards chosen to perform these rituals are taught how to dispatch a person quickly, with little pain so when they wake in the other world, they will not carry the taint of fear or distress with them.” Helgi whispered.   
The young men, the guard and the priest lifted Raimun's body and lay it on the bier, setting the sword on his chest and covering him with a shimmering sheet of red and gold silk. The priest then waved to the others to bring the brazier. He took a stick, blackened at the end with pitch and stuck it into the low fire where it sprang to life. Then holding the stick high in the air, and dipping it to the ground, he touched the edges of the bier, the flames catching at the hem of the silk covering.   
At last the priest stepped from the smaller stone boat and walked to the end of the bier where the Allfather lay. All at once, the crowd, spread across the hill, encircling the boats, burst into song, drowning out the rushing hiss of the ocean. The priest lit the sheaves at The Allfather's head, walking around the bier to his feet, lighting the barley stalks there then from one side to the other until all about the Allfather was a ring of light brightening the dusk as the singing grew louder. Swords kept time, beat against armor, the horns sounded again and Colin began to sing along with the crowd, adrenaline hitting him like a bucket of ice water as he found he could understand the words. He clutched Astrid tightly to him, glanced at Helgi, illuminated by the light of the funeral pyre, reading her lips as she sang. He swallowed hard, suddenly dizzy, turned to look at Tony but Tony was watching the fire. Simon, on the other hand was staring at him and he was white as milk.

“Beth stand up.” Gretten was squatting down in front of her but she couldn't hear him. When the singing started, she had clamped her hands over her ears and dropped to her knees, too terrified to continue listening. What she was hearing made no sense. Gretten had called it the language of the ancients and in hearing bits and pieces of it in the time she'd been here she'd only been able to pick up a rudimentary grasp. Now, however, it seemed as if she'd been speaking it her whole life.  
“Not until they stop singing,” she cried, shaking her head as Gretten pulled on her arm, She'd never been so frightened in her whole life, her mind racing to find a reason for such a terrifying phenomenon. Perhaps it was magic, maybe they'd used a spell so everyone could join in. Like wearing the headphones at the U.N. Building, just choose your language.  
“Beth,” Gretten pulled harder, drawing her to her feet where she buried her face in his shoulder.  
“Something's wrong,” she moaned into his ear, “I want to go back to the house.”  
“We can't. We're going to the palace afterward for the ritual drinking and the feast.”  
“When are they going to stop singing?!”  
Gretten looked around at the people watching them, “Soon, woman. Get hold of yourself!” he growled.  
Beth stood back from him, forcing herself to put her hands at her side though the song was driving her mad. She focused on breathing, deep breaths, in and out, in and out, her eyes closed until mercifully the crowd fell silent again, the only sound left, the crackling of the pyres, sparks rushing skyward to die in the ink of night.

 

Brynn gave a shuddering sigh, readjusted himself in Eidra's lap and fell still again. Ingrid had long ago laid Astrid, then Edie, upon one of the beds in the nursery and now sat sewing by candlelight while Cait played at their feet. Every so often, a faint roar would drift up from the huge tents set outside the city walls, a considerable feat seeing as they were some distant from the palace.  
When the feasting had died down and the revelers had become lively, Loki suggested Ingrid take the children to the palace. Eidra insisted upon joining her, taking her leave of Frigga and the King and Queen though Loki had seemed particularly vexed.  
“Ingrid is capable of taking care of the children. Stay with us.”  
Eidra had refused, however. “Four excited children is three too many for her. Honor the Allfather as much as you see fit then come to me when you are finished.”  
Loki had mumbled something about leaving him to suffer but then Velos had appeared, entreating Loki to join him in a mug of ale and so Loki had kissed Eidra's forehead and gamely followed Velos back to the tables.  
“I heard the Midgardian they call Stark complaining that the Allfather's passing has delayed his project,” Ingrid cut a piece of thread with her teeth, “Imagine the gall. Should the Allfather return from Valhalla to apologize to him? 'Tis nothing less than I would expect from those off-worlders...”  
“You forget Colin and Beth group themselves in with such ilk,” Eidra cautioned her.  
Ingrid's face colored as she stabbed the cloth in her lap with the needle, “Well, they have been with us long enough that I think of them as Asgardian. They carry themselves with honor and respect.”  
Eidra nodded, “Mmm, I told Colin he should find a fine woman and settle here but it is against their code of conduct,” she rubbed Brynn's back as he began to wiggle about again, “I thought at one time something might be blossoming between Colin and Brenna but I was mistaken.”  
“Would Loki approve of such a union?”  
“Do you not recall Chase?” Eidra laughed, “Besides, what could he say now? She is an adult.”  
“She is a woman first and foremost. She should let him choose a mate for her out of respect.”  
Eidra stared at Ingrid over Brynn's shoulder, “Oh Ingrid, how archaic of you. Did your parents choose Silas for your husband? I seem to recall two young people stealing behind the field wagons for clandestine meetings long before they were married.”  
Ingrid gave a loud sigh, frowned, “It is different for commoners with little prospect. It is true I loved Silas before we were wed but my parents approved of my choice.”  
“Because Silas is a good man and a fine guard but what if they had not approved of him, what then?”  
“Oh Eidra, the gods wept. It is not the same. Brenna is a princess of the realm.”  
“And subject to joy and heartbreak of love like any woman royal or common.”  
Ingrid clucked her tongue though she said nothing more, simply returned to her sewing with considerably more zeal.  
They sat quiet for a bit longer listening as another shout pierced the night and Ingrid cleared her throat, “Now that the Allfather has taken his seat in Valhalla, do you believe the enemies of the realm might see this as a chance to test the King's strength of resolve?”  
Eidra shrugged, “Perhaps though I doubt they shall find a chink in his armor wide enough. Though our enemies are many, so are our friends.”  
“Silas says we should have a care how many Midgardian we allow into Asgard. He believes they have not been very forthcoming with their reasons for being here.”  
Eidra stood with Brynn, carried him to the bed and lay him beside Astrid where he wiggled about a bit and settled back to sleep. Instead of returning to her chair, however, she walked to one of the southern facing windows. Far beyond the city walls, the tops of the white tents fluttered with pennants, the Asgardian standards stamped upon each one. The torchlight lent a warm glow to the horizon. They would be drinking, toasting, singing songs of the Allfather's great achievements until dawn. Loud singing was borne to them on the evening breeze. She turned from the window.  
“Thor has reassured us he is keeping close watch on the Midgardians. It is all we can do now. They are coming. We cannot back out of the project without raising questions, perhaps breaking down relations with Midgard. We must simply be vigilant in our dealings with them.”  
Ingrid had joined her by the window, “There will be new people coming before the next moon. I sense you share our trepidation.”  
Eidra gazed at the twins asleep in the bed, Cait curled up before the fireplace with her rag doll.  
“I do, Ingrid. I do.”


	32. 32

Tony stared into the depths of his half empty chalice. A few chairs to his right Loki sat, arms folded while a member of the High Court bent his ear. Tony had taken particular note of the fact that aside from the ritual toast in honor of Odin, Loki abstained from anything stronger than hard cider, nursing each chalice ever so slowly.  
Tony stood up from his chair, feeling slightly off balance. The irony of what he was going to do was not lost on him. If he could have traveled back to the attack on New York and told himself that in the future the same god he was now fighting against he was going to be cozying up to for a serious chat, he would have had himself committed, yet there it was.   
Tony looked down into his chalice again, took another mouthful of wine, squared his shoulders and headed down the table.

Loki caught movement from the corner of his eye, saw Coran look past him, his words faltering until they stopped altogether.  
“Hey,” Tony bent down, extending his hand across Loki's chest to Coran who gave it a single shake, “You don't mind if I interrupt you two do you? It's so hard to get an audience with the royal family, I gotta take the chance when I can get it.”  
“Not at all,” Coran's tone was icy, “I was just about to move on,” he nodded to Loki, “Your Highness.”  
Loki smiled thinly in return as Coran moved away from the table, glaring at Tony who slipped into the vacated chair.  
“Quite a send off your people give their dear departed loved ones.”  
Loki stared at him, “Do your people not do the same?”  
“Well yeah, we don't just drop mom and pop in a hole and plant a cross over their heads but this is on a grand scale. I mean it's a nice gesture.”  
“It is a necessary gesture,” Loki sighed, sinking back into his chair, “The Allfather was a great man.”  
Tony took another sip of his wine, “How's your mom holding up?”  
Loki turned to him, “The Queen mother is doing well, thank you.”  
“Sorry, I forget, titles. My bad,” Tony held up a hand, “The King is taking it a bit hard.”  
Loki's face darkened, “ 'Tis hard to lose one's father, one's mentor.”  
“Is it?” Tony swirled the wine about in his chalice, “Kinda hard to fathom. My father was AWOL for most of my life.”  
Loki raised an eyebrow, “Indeed?”  
“Mmm, he was too busy to bother with me. When he wasn't spending days in the lab, he was immersed in the complexities of running a multi-million dollar corporation. It's a wonder he took time out to bother with the act of procreation.”  
Loki chuckled as he reached for his chalice, “The Allfather as well was much too busy. Being a King has it's price. After all he had a realm to rule, a son to groom for the throne. Methinks, save for being born on two separate worlds, we could have had the same father.”  
“Well let's face it, being a god is a full time gig isn't it?” Tony held his gaze.  
“Gods,” Loki spat, shook his head, “Promise me you shall do your best not to foster such beliefs with your next group.”  
“Ha,” Tony sat back in the chair, “It's a might too late for that. Don't worry though, when they get here, their opinions are likely to change real quick. Which leads me to a question....have you ever done something you've regretted...?” he slapped his forehead, “What the hell am I saying? Of course you have...let's rephrase that....have you ever done something....” Tony paused, a hand to his chin, “something you know you shouldn't have done yet the consequences of not doing it are far worse?”  
Loki rubbed his eyes, “We have all made our mistakes. What be yours?”  
“Me?” Tony laughed, “I haven't done anything wrong..well recently anyway...I mean aside from opening a doorway to the realms, nothing.”  
Loki waited as Tony fidgeted with his chalice.  
“Okay we haven't always seen eye to eye right?”  
Receiving no answer, he continued, “I've come to the conclusion that it's all a matter of perspective anyhow. I've spent some time in this godforsaken realm and I've seen the similarities between our people. In this respect, I feel obliged to advise you of the danger those portals represent.”  
Loki gripped the arm of his chair, “What do you mean?”  
“I can only tell you they're meant for much more than the fostering of good will and cultural exchange”  
“And yet you built these inter-dimensional doorways,” Loki leaned forward until he was inches from Tony's face.  
“Yes, I did. And I had good reasons to,” Tony pressed himself further into the chair, “They're meant also as a way to prevent something like you from ever happening again but that's where those consequences I mentioned come into play. Did you ever wonder why my right hand man isn't here? Why Pepper has stayed on Earth while I've been stuck here for the past few months? How would you feel if you had to be apart from Eidra for any length of time?”  
Loki tilted his head, “Were the situation warranted, I suppose I would have to obey. Were it forced upon me, I would return to her if I had to crawl on my hands and knees.”  
Tony glanced at Thor at the other end of the long table, clinking a tankard with another man, “On your knees, huh? That's valiant... but we're not talking honor and chivalry here. Far from it, in fact. We're talking organizations that have the power to deliver just as much destruction with a few well placed shots as your flying gila monsters if they so much as sense discord in any of the realms..and let me tell you they wouldn't lose any sleep over it either.”  
Loki put his chalice down upon the table hard enough to slosh the contents over the lip onto the polished wood surface, “Do not associate me with that warmongering race of savages ever again!”  
Tony clasped his hands before his chin, “I know, I know. That ship has already sailed. Look all I'm saying is don't turn your back on the portals. Keep watching them like you have been, just to be safe.”  
Loki's eyes narrowed, “Am I to ken you had no choice but to build those portals?”  
“Give that man a prize!” Tony cried, “That's absolutely correct”  
“So then why warn us of danger from your own people? Do you not serve Fury...though historically, you have ever been only for yourself. ”  
“I don't _serve_ Fury. This goes a lot higher than one former current director in a rag tag organization. You want to talk God complex, there's your target. No, this portal project is a global concern,” Tony threw his hands in the air, “Jesus, you guys must think we're all monsters!”  
Loki took a long draught of his cider, “I am merely going upon what I have observed in the past.”  
“Wow, that really hurts. That's a universe away from the truth. Look, I'm just telling you to watch for the real monsters.”  
“If the case is so dire then why did you not bring your suit of armor with you for protection?”  
“I told you. The monsters are on the other side of that portal. Besides that's the last thing Fury wanted,” Tony grimaced, “He thinks I'm a lot safer being a front man, calls me a live wire but what are we saying? We're looking at the glass half empty. Nothing's going to happen. We're going to exchange cultural information, see how the other half lives and all will be well, right?”  
“Stark!”   
Thor hovered over them, a wide grin upon his face, “Come share a tankard with me. Drink to my father's memory!”  
With a wink, Tony stood up, “Never let it be said I didn't know how to mourn properly,” he nodded to Loki, “We'll catch up with each other later...have a couple more drinks, you're a lot more fun when you're drunk.”  
Loki watched Thor and Tony weave through the crowd, Thor weaving a bit more than Tony as he rose from his chair, “We shall indeed,”   
He sat his chalice on the table, heading from the tent into the evening. He'd had enough of death and, warnings, dire predictions, all he wanted now was Eidra.

 

Colin's head felt tight, numb. He set the chalice on the ground further away from him as he tried to focus on what Simon was saying, smiling to himself as Simon took Colin's chalice, arranging it neatly beside his own.  
“Colin, I swear to god it was like a switch being thrown.”   
Colin leaned back against the wagon wheel watching the revelers beneath the tents across the field He'd never seen so much wine being consumed in his life, not even back home. Casks of the stuff flowed like water at every turn. He was sure he could see the faintest hint of blue lightening the horizon. It couldn't be that late could it?  
“What about you? You said it happened to you as well.”  
Colin stared at him for a moment, nonplussed, “Oh, aye but I've been exposed to the native language a bit more than you. It was probably a fluke”   
He didn't want to think of the whole affair. He only wanted to climb up in the wagon bed and go to sleep. He was exhausted in the extreme.  
“A bloody fluke? No...no...it doesn't make sense. That wonky woman with her second sight, Vargas and his observations, now this. It's like I'm losing my mind. I went so far as to ask Stark for a furlough but he refused, said he'd pay me double if he had to. Claims I'm too critical to the project, I say bollocks.”  
Colin put his head back to one of the spokes, “Don't be sneaking off. S.H.I.E.L.D has a way of retrieving you, makes you wish you'd stayed put.”  
Simon took a handful of grass, ripped it out of the ground, tossing it into the darkness, “I'm not running off. The way I figure this, it can go one way or the other. I can choose to believe I was guided here by some unseen force for a higher purpose or I can ignore it all, mark everyone around me batshit insane,” he grabbed another handful of grass, “I'm leaning toward insanity.”  
Colin gazed up at the stars. There were too many coincidences, the music, the database in New York, how well he seemed to fit in here, Trena's claims.   
“Join the crowd, Simon.”

 

The monotone beep in his headphone made Buzzy sit up straight in his bunk. He threw the covers from his legs and leaped to the floor. His roommate groaned, rolling over to stare at him, bleary eyed.  
“Okay this is the third time this week, dude. You know I'm not gonna say anything but if you get caught letting her in after she's supposed to be in, you're risking your position in the group and hers too,” he threw the covers over his head, “So you might want to tell her to cut the shit.”  
Buzzy stood by the pale blue security light beside the door, wrestling with his shoes, “Everyone's asleep. We're not going to get caught. Stop being such a puss and don't tell me you'd pass up a chance to hit that. She's incredible.”  
“Not at the risk of being thrown off the team,” his roommate muttered from beneath the covers, “Go before she starts knocking on the damn door.”

Buzzy rushed down the stairwell of the hotel until he reached the basement level where he followed the sterile hallway down to the service entrance they'd agreed upon. He swung open the door and Eris stumbled inside. He caught her in his arms, barely keeping his balance.  
“Shit, girl!” he whispered, “You got to cut this out.”  
“I can't help it,” she wrapped her arms around his neck, “This waiting around shit is so fucking boring!”  
“Jesus,” Buzzy covered her mouth with his hand, “Shut up before you get us both in trouble. Come on, try to stand up. How the hell you made it back here without getting raped or mugged is beyond me.”  
“Shhhh,” her finger wavered before his lips, “Is a secret.”  
He managed to get her feet under her, guiding her down the corridor to the stairwell where they started slowly up the stairs.  
“My roomie says you're gonna get us thrown out.”   
Eris grabbed onto the railing, hauling herself upward, “Only if he don't keep his big mouth shut.”  
“He won't say a thing. He promised.” Buzzy pushed her up to the next landing.  
“Yeah until you piss him off,” she leaned against him, almost pushing him backwards down the stairs.  
“Up, not down....unh!” Buzzy grunted, “Just two more flights....I trust him, he hasn't ratted on me yet.”  
“Well I don't.......trust any....one,” Eris reached for the railing, missed, reached again, “No one.”  
“You trusted me to come and open the door for you.”  
“Uh-uh...I hoped. I gambled......and I won....”  
Buzzy cracked the fifth floor door and peered into the hallway. It was empty.  
“Whatever, now come on and keep quiet.”  
When they reached her door, she tugged at his hand, “You comin' in?”  
“Not tonight....actually,” Buzzy glanced at his watch, “This morning. My luck, I'll fall asleep and get caught,” he pulled out his wallet and took out his passkey, “Now wait till the light turns green and open the door.”  
She gave him the sweetest smile she could manage. She'd played up to the right man for sure. Buzzy was in charge of his floor meaning he had a passkey to each room. He would make a room check each night, the perfect time for her to slip in undetected. If she used her own passkey, it would record her time in.  
“Sure you won't come in? We only have a few more days.”  
Buzzy leaned in, met her lips in a slow kiss, tasting the liquor on her tongue, “We'll find the time.”  
“I'll hold you to it,” She reached between them, drawing her fingernails against the front of his boxers, blew him a kiss and shut the door behind her.

Buzzy crawled back into his bunk with a groan. He was so close to grabbing his clothes and returning to Eris's room. The temptation of that face, that ass, those...  
“Package delivered?” came the mumble from the bunk opposite his.  
“Yeah, yeah.”  
“She pickled?”  
Buzzy hunkered down under his blanket, “Pretty much, yeah.”  
“Surprised you didn't stay.”  
“I didn't dare.”  
A muffled chuckle, “I wouldna touched her in the first place.”  
Buzzy lifted his head from the pillow to stare into the darkness, “Ya know what, Wells. You're a real tool.”  
“Mmmm, go to sleep.”  
Buzzy flopped his head back down, burrowing in, “Ya, good night.”  
Silence.  
Buzzy frowned to himself, “Tool.”

 

Simon slid the portal marker out of the slot at the end of the tablet, dropped it in a small box to his right, took another portal marker from a box on his left, slid it into the end of the tablet and hit the initialize button on the screen. While he waited to enter the activation sequence, he busied himself once again with arranging the items on his writing desk. A short time after his arrival in Asgard, the symptoms of his OCD had abated slightly. Whether his presence here in the realm had been having a positive effect on him, crazy as it sounded, or he'd been too distracted by his new surroundings to think much on it, he couldn't be sure. Now, however, he was feeling anxious, certain it was partly due to his visits with Vargas's family. What with all the talk of destiny and heritage then that giant leap into the twilight zone at Odin's funeral two days ago, it was a wonder he wasn't hiding under his cot talking to himself.   
A blinking neon green line appeared on the screen. He tapped in the code, the line turned red then to green again. Simon slid the portal marker out of the tablet, dropped it into the box on his right and laid his head on his desk allowing the warmth of the brazier to soothe him. The nights were getting chilly now and Simon had questioned Tony upon whether or not it was a wise decision to bring the next group through at the start of winter whereas Tony had informed him he hadn't been involved in the decision in the first place so, in a couple of days, they would have a batch of new recruits to deal with. He heaved a great sigh. Along with the toasting of Odin and the recounts of his valorous deeds had been talk of the upcoming harvest festival and the lighting of the large bonfires from which people would light their own hearth fires. At least it was something to look forward to, another distraction. Not that he'd be able to attend, as busy as they were here at the encampment.  
A shout came from outside his tent and he raised his head up to listen. There were other voices in the distance but the words were unintelligible. He considered getting up to take a peek outside but thought better of it, instead taking another marker from the box at his left and inserting it into the slot at the top of the tablet   
There was a soft whump as the flap of his tent was drawn aside.   
“Mister Foster?”  
Simon jumped, twisted about in his chair to see Kenworth standing there with his hands behind his back.  
“Good lord, couldn't you announce yourself before barging into my tent? What is it?”  
“Sorry sir. It's kind of important,” Kenworth leaned back to peer outside into the darkness.  
“It? What is it?” Simon strained to listen to the voices which seemed to be having a heated discussion now.  
“Uh..” Kenworth again looked behind him, “We have a visitor who wants to speak with you.”  
Simon stood up, “Big man, reddish hair, beard?”  
Kenworth stepped outside the tent and quickly back inside, “N..nooo, not at all big.”  
It couldn't be Vargas then. Simon felt his skin erupt into gooseflesh, “A young boy? Girl?”   
Kenworth shook his head. More shouts were heard approaching the tent, accompanied by rapid footsteps  
Simon was about to step outside when an older man appeared before the opened flap followed by two agents calling to him to halt.  
Simon stopped, rooted to the spot, feeling as if his world was upending itself. He was consumed by an overwhelming need to straighten up his desk again. It wasn't due to the man's dress which consisted of a pair of breeches, elaborately tooled boots, a fine, though somewhat dirtied cream colored tunic, a long gray cap and a green crushed velvet vest, nor was it the large pack on his back. Rather it was the man's face. It was a face he'd seen a number of times when he was a child. Maybe not identical but a close enough resemblance to be irrefutable. Had he not known the truth of the matter, he would have sworn he was looking at his grandfather. He backed toward the chair he'd been sitting in moments ago, the strength quickly leaving his legs.  
“By the gods!” the man roared at the agents now flanking him, “Do you treat all visitors so appallingly?”  
Kenworth turned to Simon, “This...is..”  
“Harmand of the lineage of Melos, guardian of the Rune Laguz. I have come here at the behest of a friend to speak with the man they call Simon of Foster.”  
“No of,” Simon whispered faintly, “Just Foster  
Harmand's green eyes widened as he at last noticed Simon, “Great Freyr! Had I not seen you with my own eyes, I would have been tempted to call Vargas an outright liar. You are the the mirror image of my father in his lusty youth!”  
Simon felt consciousness slip away from him as he slid to the ground, Harmand's next statement the last words he heard.  
“He is a bit delicate though..”

 

Simon shoved his hand up in front of his face, trying to push the acrid smell away from his nose. He opened his eyes to find one of the encampment medics kneeling beside him with a small brown bottle.  
“Come on sunshine. Sit up for me. You didn't hit your head did you?”  
Did he?   
“He slid to the floor as gently as a falling leaf.”  
Simon looked about his tent, spied Harmand standing over him and felt his head start to swim again.  
The medic put a hand behind his back as Harmand offered his hand, pulling him to stand.  
“Nothing broken, no concussion. I think we're all set. You might want to lie down for a bit,” the medic nodded to Kenworth, “Keep an eye on him.”  
Harmand guided him to his cot, easing him down to sit, “There now. You had a bit of a fright. Vargas told me you had no notion..”  
“Sir?” Kenworth interjected, “Are you alright?”  
Simon stared at Harmand, “Yeah, ya...would....would you excuse us, Agent Kenworth?”  
Kenworth's eyes shifted to Harmand, “You sure? I could stay if needed..”  
Simon shook his head, “I'm fine. Go on. I'll call if I need you.”  
When Kenworth dropped the tent flap closed with a last look at the two of them, Simon turned to Harmand, frustrated at how unsure of himself he sounded, “You know I don't believe any of what Vargas claims don't you?”  
“He mentioned it to be certain but what you believe matters little now,” Harmand glanced about the tent, spied the chair at the desk and pulled it over beside the cot, sitting down with a grunt, “These old bones are right painful. I rode a good long way to see you.”  
“....shouldn't have...” Simon badly wanted a cool glass of water.  
“Nonsense. Vargas believed it was of utmost importance that I come and glad I am that I did. Tell me, did no one ever speak of your heritage, of what you are?”  
Simon shook his head, closed his eyes, “The only thing close to family history I was ever made privy to was the fact that my grandfather and great grandfather were jewelry makers.”  
“And what did you yourself become?” Harmand took a pipe out of one vest pocket and stuck the stem between his teeth.  
“A scientist.”   
Harmand lit his pipe, “What in the nine realms is a scientist?”  
Simon thought hard, “A physicist....an alchemist?”  
“A man of learning then?” Harmand lip his pipe with a small flint, “Did you not learn any metalworking from your kin?”  
“...no...none at...no..”  
“Pitiful,” Harmand pointed the stem of his pipe at Simon, “Your ancestors let their skills die with them, as well as your heritage,” he gestured about the tent, “”Tis sick at heart I am. What happened to your legacy? Tell me, do you have in your possession the Rune Laguz?”  
At Simon's confused expression, Harmand rolled his emerald green eyes to the tent roof, “Scandalous.”  
Harmand rose stiffly from the chair and began to walk about the tent, peering closely at everything, his tablet at which Harmand shook his head, books, pictures, lantern, freestanding locker.  
“Excuse me...,” Simon stood up, “Whatever are you looking for?”  
Harmand strode over to Simon and rapped his knuckles atop his head, “Did you not hear me? Your ancestors should have passed on to you the Rune Laguz. The responsibility of preserving this sacred object falls to each generation.”  
Simon wanted to scream, instead he flopped back down onto his cot, “Well why didn't you say so in the first place? Go ahead, look around, be my guest. I'd love to help you, however, I've no bloody idea what in the hell you're looking for.” Simon pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes again.  
Harmand gazed about, “Do you have something in your possession that has been passed down from great grandfather to grandfather to father and so on? Think upon it.”  
Simon sighed, “I know what runes look like. They're little stones, correct? Well I've nothing like that. I do have a deck prism from my maternal three times great grandfather's sailing days..,” he stood, walked to the little set of shelves at the end of his cot and picked up the green glass deck prism, holding it out to Harmand, “..which is clearly not a stone..”  
Harmand took the ship prism from Simon's hand, holding it up to the light of the lantern sitting on his writing desk, his expression serious at first. All at once, he broke into a wide grin, “Come here.”  
Simon tilted his head as Harmand held up the prism.  
“What is it?...what are...,”  
Harmand took his arm, pulling him forward, holding up the prism until it was inches from his nose, “Look at it.”  
Simon stared at the green glass, seeing the distorted flame of the lantern on the other side, “Yes, very pretty...there's quite a history with....GOOD lord!”  
Harmand had pressed his nose to the prism, “Look closer, look into the center, great Freyr!”  
Simon peered into the prism, “I don't know what you expect me to see....”  
“Do you truly not see it?” Harmand shook his head, “Is there nothing etched within?”  
Simon focused, staring about the interior until he found a scratch, lighter than the surrounding glass.  
“I see some marks, most likely made when it was created...”  
“The one in the shape of a sharp hook, do you see that one?”  
Simon searched again, he was quickly growing exasperated, “I confess I....do..not........Jesus..”  
Dead center was a mark shaped like a backward seven that seemed to turn with the prism so that it always looked the same no matter how one was viewing it. Simon took the prism from Harmand's hands and turned it point downward, stared into the flat bottom to see the mark once again in the same position. He shoved the prism back into Harmand's hands.  
“I don't know how the hell you're doing this....then again, I suppose I do, we're surrounded by magic here aren't we....so I can assume...”  
Harmand endeavored to hand the prism back to him, “ 'Tis nothing of my doing, on the contrary, 'tis the rune. It created this prism to hide its true form. You truly have no idea what you possess..”  
For the first time in his life, he wanted to take the prism and smash it. He should have told Brenna to leave it broken.  
“You're insane, bollocking insane!” Simon cried pacing back and forth before him, “Listen to me...I...am not....the person....you think I am. This is my first trip to this godforsaken realm. I know nothing about any runes nor have I ever heard the name Melos from anyone in my family....do I make myself...”  
“Knock knock?” Tony threw open the tent flap and poked his head inside, “I heard we had a visitor and I wanted to formally welcome him. After all, why should Simon have all the company?”   
Tony held out his hand to Harmand who was fixing him with a hard stare.  
“Tony Stark, project head, at your service....and you are?”  
Simon was going to be sick, right in front of Harmand, his boss and God, could feel his stomach twisting.  
“Harmand leader of the clan of the lineage of Melos of Alfheim,” Harmand stuck out one hand, attempting to return the prism to Simon who backed away from it.  
“Wow, that's a mouthful, try getting that on a business card. So what brings you here to visit Mister Foster?”  
“Excuse me..” Simon pushed past them, stumbling through the tent flap into the evening air, barely making it around the corner of the tent before he vomited his dinner onto the matted grass. Wracked with dry heaves, he could hear Tony and Harmand talking. He put his hands to his ears to drown out their conversation as stars sparkled before his eyes.  
 _“god please don't let me pass out again,”_ he moaned to himself, jumping forward as he felt a hand on his back.  
“Foster?” It was Kenworth, “You okay? You want I should get the doctor again?”  
Simon waved at him, “Nope, nope....f....ine,”  
“He's okay....,”   
Tony was standing behind him. He forced himself to stand upright, facing Tony and Harmand.  
“I get emotional at family reunions myself.....or I would if I had them...,” Tony patted Simon on the shoulder as Harmand stepped forward.  
“I'll take my leave now. I am expected at Vargas's place. If it is acceptable, I will call on you again.”  
Tony took Harmand's hand and shook it, “By all means, just give us a little notice so we can be ready for you, tidy up the place and all that..”  
Simon could only stare at Harmand as he held out his hand but at a look from Tony, he took Harmand's hand and shook it.  
“Kenworth will see you to the perimeter of the encampment,” Tony nodded to Kenworth who gestured for Harmand to follow him.  
As they started off down the the row of tents, Tony looked at Simon, “And we will have a sit down in my office..”


	33. 33

He threw the pillow over his head, groaning when the rooster crowed once more. He'd long ago given up setting the alarm on his tablet, quickly realizing he'd always be up with the sun.  
Another barrage.  
“I'm up, shut yer fucking gob,” he muttered.  
“And high time it is too.”  
Colin drew the pillow off his head and opened one eye to see Chris hovering over him.  
“Well count me lucky. I thought you'd found another house to haunt,” Colin sat up and rubbed his face, “I've no time for yer shite today. I'm off again.”  
Chris drifted back from the bed, his hands wrung together, “I was indeed absent from this dwelling. I have been watching over my Sally. She has been having a difficult time of it. Her body betrays her, she gets about poorly. Ren is little help, being herself even older. I fear for them in the coming winter. I wonder, could you plant a bug in Eidra's ear?”  
Colin swung his feet over the floor, hissing at the cold hard wood, “How? What do I say to her? I've a message from beyond the grave, Milady will you pay for the call?..”

 

Loki grabbed his tunic from the chair by the wardrobe.  
“Must you leave so early?” Eidra whimpered, reaching to him from beneath the coverlet, “Come share my warmth.”  
He bent forward, took her outstretched hand and pressed it to his lips, “I would it were possible, however, I ride with Colin to the longhouses today.”  
“Mmm, he leaves for Midgard to oversee the next group,” she sat up, shivering with the cool morning air, “Tell him to return home with all haste.”  
“Indeed. After I see him to the longhouse, I am expected at the palace. Perhaps you might join me for the day, leave the children with Ingrid. Thor has been on about Jane and her condition. He is of the mind that a visit will comfort her.”  
“I do detest the thought of extracting myself from this bed but I must agree. It has been some time since I have visited with the Queen,” Eidra flopped back onto the pillows, “I shall see if Brenna wishes to accompany us as well though I must bear listening to her beg once again to leave for Midgard.”  
Loki sat down in the chair before the dressing table to pull on his boots, “Did she tell you I asked her to stay home until after Fen's coming of age ritual?”  
“She did and most unhappily so. She says she cannot just....what was the term........pop in at any time to see Sophie. She must plan her visit so as not to disrupt any...oh any other...plans. It is so very complicated.”  
Loki stood up, “Then tell her to plan on popping in ten days hence.”  
Eidra looked up at him, “We did promise her she might go, Loki.”  
“And she shall. I will not break my promise.”  
“If such is the case, then promise me I shall have your full attention later this eve,” she purred, her face upturned to him. He leaned over, caressed her cheek as he kissed her, felt her smile  
“Count on it,” He stood then, headed for the bedchamber door, “Now up with you if you are to ride with us. The day has begun.”

 

“Do your best boy. I only know there are few can see me and you are the only one willing or able to deliver the message..”  
Colin slipped the tablet into his backpack, “What do you expect me to do? Tromp into their bedroom and ask her how Sally is getting on? They'd think I'd gone daft.”  
“Work it into a casual conversation, boy! I've not met an Irishman yet who didn't possess the gift of eloquence.”  
“Then you've not been to Belfast in some time. Either way, I can't do very much until I get back from New York.   
Chris drifted to the table to hover beside him, “What do you mean? Are you leaving Asgard yet again?”  
Colin unzipped the larger section of the pack, “I was asked for specifically on this trip and since I value keeping my job...yes I am leaving. Only for a couple days though.”  
“The family needs you,” Chris bent down to look at Colin, “I cannot grasp its meaning but I feel they are unsafe without you here in this realm.”  
Colin thought of the seer but for a moment as he took a tunic and breeches, shoving them into his pack. He would cross over dressed in his stuffy agent's suit, but he would don his Asgardian civvies on the way back.  
“I'm one man. There are things in this realm would eat me for breakfast. I can't see how my being here would make much of a difference...”

 

Loki shut the door quietly, started across the hall for Colin's bedchamber and stopped. In the doorway to his own bedchamber, staring at Colin's door stood Fen.   
“He is doing it again, Papa,” he whispered, “He is talking to no one..”  
Loki looked at Colin's door and moved closer to listen...

 

“How can you say such things? Why I've watched Cait and the twins fairly clamor for your attention. Fen speaks quite highly of you, Brenna adores you..,”  
At this, Colin smirked.  
“Edie worships you, even Ingrid and Silas, serious boy that he is, are grateful for you presence. Gretten....he is difficult but saying nothing bad about you is as good as you might wish for from him. Old Helgi trusts you....bah you sell yourself short, Lad.”  
“And faith, I'm powerful fond of them in return but all good things must come to an end. I'll not be here forever.”  
Chris patted his shoulder and he was surprised to find he could feel its weight, “Will you not then? Perhaps you might change your mind...”  
Colin held up his hand, “I've had this discussion with other members of the family. I can't stay here. After a year, my time is up and I'll be reassigned..”

 

Loki knocked gently on Colin's door, cocking his head to Fen who retreated into his room. Seconds later, Colin opened it and stepped back.  
“Come in, I didn't think you'd be up so early.”  
Loki scanned the room, “I told you I would accompany you to the longhouses to see you off. To whom were you speaking just now?”  
Colin continued to button his shirt, frantically searching for an answer that wouldn't sound impossible. He could have said he was dictating to the tablet but it was in his pack.  
“Fen tells me he has heard you do so before as has Brenna, yet there was no one in the room with you. Do you communicate with Midgard in some way we do not know?”  
Colin swallowed hard, the last thing he wanted was to be seen as a spy of some sort, consequently, he didn't want to be seen as a nutcase but then again, he was living in a realm where folklore and magic were fact and science. Maybe Loki would believe him if he made a confession.  
“I was indeed talking to someone,” he sighed, looked toward the table where Chris waggled his fingers at him, “Ever since I was little, I've had the gift of the seventh sense, so to speak.”  
Loki tilted his head, “Explain.”  
Colin sat down on his bed, “I can see and speak with those who have passed out of this world to the next....I can speak with the dead,” he slapped his hands upon his knees, “And it seems you've someone dear to watch over you who has chosen to bend my ear from time to time.”  
“You communicate with the spirits? However did you come by such magic as this?” Loki blanched, walked to the table and sat down heavily in the chair.  
Colin nodded, “I do. I've had the gift to see those who've passed on ever since I can recall. As for how it came to me, I've not the slightest idea. It's just always been this way.”  
“This apparition....Is he with us now?”  
“ Aye, his name is Chris,” Colin looked up, saw Chris nearly nose to nose with Loki and had to bite his lip hard to keep from laughing out loud, “Tell me, did this Chris have a ripe sense of humor by any chance?”  
“Indeed he did,” Loki clasped his hands as if in prayer, closing his eyes, “Does he appear to you often?”  
Colin considered how much he should tell him, “On occasion, aye. He watches over yer family with all the tenacity of a mother hen...”  
“Were it there was a way to restore him as I did my Eidra.” Loki sighed, “I would. Tell him that would you?”  
Chris shook his head, patting Loki's hand and Colin half expected Loki to jump up from the chair in shock but he remained in position unable to feel his friend's comforting touch as he had.  
“He knows,” Colin stood from the bed, “And he thanks you for such loyalty. He also tells me that Sally's in dire need of a visit. She's not getting on well lately.”  
Loki stood with him, “I will tell Eidra. Perhaps we should arrange for her to come stay with us for a while.”  
Chris clapped his hands together and Colin smiled, “It might do her good.”  
“Thank you for being so forthcoming with me,” Loki put a hand on Colin's shoulder, “Knowing Chris is still with me gives me profound joy. I will regale you with stories about him upon your return.   
“We will take care of Sally, my dear, dear friend...,”Loki scanned the room once more, then nodded to Colin, “Are you ready to go?”  
“No,” Colin shouldered his backpack, “but then I've not a choice have I?”

 

 

_Assignment: 64379-01  
Location: S.H.I.E.L.D office, New York City, NY_

_Agent: Colin M. Denehy  
Date: 9/7/29_

_If nothing else, Shield keeps things clinical...and tight. When I arrived at the office, I was taken to my quarters for the next couple of days, a basic efficiency, living room, bedroom, kitchenette, TV, everything done up in a hospital-cheery blue. No sooner had I set my backpack down then I had a visit from none other than Agent Coulson. He walked into the apartment with that same serious smile, welcomed me back to Earth, handed me a thin folder and sat down on the couch crossed his legs, made himself right at home. while I opened it to stare, gobsmacked, at the contents.  
“If you access the mainframe for information again, I highly suggest doing it from your own encrypted device.”  
I asked him if I was off the project then. If he had said yes, I would have quit then and there, no doubt in my mind. Would have gone back to Helen's bay and become a fucking fishmonger or some other thing but to my extreme relief, he shook his head.   
“At this point, I haven't given the information to Director Fury. I would, however, like to know the nature of your inquiry.”  
I came close to asking him if he'd read the damn thing that close but figured I might better keep my sarcastic wit under control. I wanted to kick myself for being so lax. He was right of course. CYA at all times and right now my arse was in full moon mode in the middle of Times Square. Let me start out by saying Coulson has seen it all and more, he's likely heard it all as well. I figured he wanted me to come clean. Still, I didn't feel quite obliged to tell him about everything the crazy seer told me, thinking he might decide my trolley had jumped the tracks but at last I sort of danced around the fact, rearranging the details, downplaying the gravity of Trena's meeting. I told him about the seer, about her suspicion that I had distant relations in Alfheim. I almost couldn't bring myself to say it without laughing hysterically but Coulson simply nodded.  
“Is there going to be a conflict of interest involved here?”  
I looked him in the eye, “No sir.”  
That serious smile again. He held out his hand and I placed the folder in it.  
“I'm going to take you at your word. You've done an excellent job and introducing a new liaison this far into the project, I think, would only complicate matters. I simply thought I would bring this to your attention,” He got up from the couch and shook my hand, “Tomorrow morning's briefing will be in conference room suite 211 on the thirtieth floor, Stark tower nine a.m. sharp. A car will be waiting for you in the parking garage at eight-thirty. In the meantime, make yourself at home.”  
After he left, I sat on the couch for some time. He'd wanted to show me the ace up his sleeve, of that I was sure. It was his way of saying, “Don't muck up this job or it'll go hard on ya,” in a way that didn't sound as threatening as it actually was. I could well see why he was considered one of the best agents out there.  
Besides, I've other more pressing issues to trouble myself with. Not only did I carelessly make Loki privy to my, ah...affliction before we set out to the longhouses for my trip home, he also grilled me with more questions about the portal project.   
It would seem that Stark, who had been in his cups at the funeral, felt obliged to say more about the project than he would have when sober. Not that Loki didn't have legitimate concerns about how much control the Asgardians would have of the portals on their end, or why the Asgardians shouldn't be concerned with trouble from Earth as well seeing the portals worked both ways but I told him I knew little about the project scope, and that was not a lie. I don't know what would happen if problems were to arise. I don't know if Shield would send agents in, launch a full scale military smackdown, or just shut the portals off altogether and let them fight it out amongst themselves. All I could tell him was that Stark had given him the best advice yet. Be vigilant. CYOA....or cover it as best one can.  
Now, however, I'm off for the evening. I want nothing more than to find some decent takeaway in this godforsaken town and watch some mind-numbingly bad telly. Anything to take my mind offline until tomorrow when I meet the new recruits....god bless them each and every one..._

 

As Colin had expected, the next morning started out badly. He'd awakened late, having to forgo breakfast. He rushed from his quarters, hoping to get to the conference room at Stark tower early. In doing so, he had forgotten his tablet. He'd had the driver return to S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters to fetch it. When he arrived back at Stark tower, however, he'd punched the elevator button for the wrong floor, a fact not discovered until the elevator doors opened and he'd already stepped out. He'd decided to take the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator to return and had gotten turned around in the unfamiliar building with the result that he'd still been late to the meeting.   
Now, he sat, leaning back in an office chair in one of the cavernous ready rooms waiting for the new group to assemble, his eyes closed against the fluorescent lights, nursing a migraine to accompany the nausea of an empty stomach.  
“What I wouldn't give to be back in Asgard right now,” he muttered to himself as he heard one of the double doors open and sat upright staring behind the two men approaching the long table at which he was sitting.  
“Fury made this group seem a lot bigger than it is,” Colin looked down at his tablet.  
“The rest of the group are on their way, sir,” one of the men replied, “We like to be early. That way we're one up on everyone else.”  
Colin smiled, “Wise if yer looking for a lifeboat, not so good if yer facing a firing squad...., name?”  
He pointed at the young man who'd first spoken. The man drew himself up, adjusting his suit jacket, “Buzzy Denver, sir..”  
“Buzzy? That yer given name?” Colin scanned the list.  
His partner snickered as Buzzy glared at him, “No sir, my given name is John.”  
Colin tapped the screen, “So John Denver....like that old country singer?”  
His friend clapped a hand to his mouth as a grin stole across Buzzy's face, “My parents had an odd sense of humor. Thought it would make people remember me better to have a famous name.”  
“Aye, I can tell you I'll not be soon forgetting it,” Colin looked up at his partner, “And yer name?”  
“Chase Wells, sir.”  
Colin tapped his name. “So yer both junior executives...Stark Industries. Nice.”  
The sound of voices, footsteps in the hallway outside the ready room heralded the approach of more group members.  
Colin handed them two bands from an open briefcase on the table beside him, “Put these around yer wrist. The blue circles in the center contain the markers that will access the portal closest to you when yer in Asgard. They're coded to the portal at the longhouse right now and you'll receive full instructions on their use once we're there.” As they strapped the bands about their wrists, Colin watched others of the group file into the ready room.”  
“Satisfy my curiosity,” Colin eyed them as they moved to make room for an older man and woman who'd reached the table, “What possessed two upwardly mobile career men such as yerselves to sign up for a trip like this?”  
Buzzy scratched his blond hair, looked at the floor, “I signed up because he did.”  
“Mmm, and you, Mister Wells?”  
Chase nodded to the older man and woman, “I signed up under the personal suggestion of Mister Stark himself, sir.”  
“Is that so?” Colin raised an eyebrow as he smiled up at the older couple, “Not many of us can claim to be hand picked now can we.”  
Chase clasped his hands behind his back, “You might say I'm a special case, sir.”  
Colin smirked, handed him a clipboard from the briefcase, “Well then, Mister Wells. The early bird often gets the worm but also does he have to dig through a lot of shite to get to it. Take these waivers down the line and have each lucky volunteer sign and date them, including yerselves.”  
Chase tucked the clipboard under his arm, smiled and was off down the line that was forming, Buzzy following behind him.  
Colin shook his head, “Special case...,” he glanced up at the couple, “..alright, names please?”

 

They made quick progress, managing to keep a few people ahead of Colin until they reached Eris. Buzzy couldn't take his eyes off her. Neither could most of the men in line. She'd chosen a skin tight pale pink mini sheath dress that spotlighted her ample cleavage, accented by her arms crossed just below her breasts. She smiled at Buzzy, waggling her fingers at him as Chase handed her the clipboard, waited for her to sign the waiver. She handed the clipboard back to Chase with a wink, leaned over and whispered something in Buzzy's ear that had them both giggling, then they were moving down the line again.  
“She's gonna get a rude awakening in Asgard,” Chase muttered to Buzzy while he handed the clipboard to a young woman in a light green pant suit, “She's not going to be able to dress like a hooch. Hell she shouldn't be dressed like that now. It creates a bad image.”  
Buzzy turned to him, “Jesus, Wells. You are really and truly a tool. What the hell? She looks gorgeous. Either you're blind or jealous..,” he took another look up the line at Eris, “You do like girls, right?”  
Chase scowled at him, “You know just because I ain't sporting wood over her like you are don't mean I don't like girls and I told you, you're the one who's blind. She's a slut, dude, a sneaky one at that. She won't last a week in Asgard. If her mouth don't get her in trouble, her act will.”  
Buzzy took the clipboard and handed it to the next person in line, an elderly man who grinned from ear to ear as he wrote his name and the date on the waiver paper, “I can hardly believe this is actually happening.”  
Chase gave him a smile, “Neither can I, Mister Mindel.”  
They were almost to the end of the line.  
“And you think you'll last much longer?” Buzzy handed the clipboard to a teenager who took it with a frown.  
Chase glanced up to the front of the line where Colin was handing a bracelet to Eris, “I'll guarantee it.”

 

Colin had moved from behind the table to lean against it as the group of fifteen new volunteers formed a semicircle around him.  
“By now, if you've done all the reading like good boys and girls, you've got just an inkling of what yer in for in the next six months. I'll let that sink in for a tick.”   
He scanned the group, noticing the edgy foot to foot dance of the brooding teenager named Garth, recalling the short bios he'd read last night before bed. Garth was one step away from forced military enlistment. He'd been in enough trouble in his seventeen years to create a decent rap sheet. Nevertheless, he'd been picked from a list of potentials given to the project by the government probably in the hopes that this dry spell away from modern technology and civilization would reform him.....either that or Asgard would take care of him its own way.  
“Six months without communications of any kind. No cells, no telly, tablets for journaling but yer not likely to get wireless across dimensions and Asgard is light years away from laying fiberoptic cables. No autos either. You might be able to pass off a bike if you tried, probably get some stares. No planes, no trains. I will, however, promise you saddle sores because some time within those six months, yer going to either learn to ride a horse or yer going to be doing a lot of walking,” Colin opened his arms wide then, standing up.  
“And for those of you who're fashion conscious,” here he eyed Eris, “This is what men wear. A tunic shirt, cord or leather belt. Breeches or long pants depending on the situation, and leather boots, short or long. I prefer the long boots. Keeps out the mud and water. The women,” he crooked a finger now at Eris who smiled and sauntered up to him. He bent down, pulled a long box from beneath the table and drew out a violet silk dress with a scoop neckline and buttons up the back. Turning Eris to face the group, he held the dress in the air beside her, “The women wear dresses. Long dresses with laced bodices, corsets.” Eris twisted about to get a glimpse of the dress, leaning into Colin's shoulder and he shuddered, gesturing her back toward the others, “slippers, or boots as well.”  
He reagrded the faces staring back at him. Mister Mindel seemed positively giddy as he leaned forward, intent on Colin's every word. Garth seemed ready to cry. Buzzy was continually distracted watching Eris. Chase, standing rigid, impassive.  
“On occasion, finer dress is required during festivals, holidays and the like. Proper attire will be afforded to you during yer stay but this only scratches the surface of what you will experience. It goes much deeper than appearances. This is a serious commitment, half a year of yer life in which you are expected to document yer experiences, record what you see and do, journal yer days. You are also required to help the families you will be placed with. Daily chores will range from feeding animals, throwing hay, gardening, washing clothes, cooking, cleaning, assisting with the children, drawing water for those who do not have the convenience of indoor piping, washing dishes and emptying chamber pots.” Colin smiled at the grimaces. He was thoroughly enjoying himself, “All without electricity. If you find you cannot follow through with yer obligations, we understand completely. Removing yerself from the program is always an option and will not be looked on unfavorably.”  
When the group remained silent, Colin clapped his hands, “Alright then. You have the rest of the day and night to visit with yer loved ones, make yer calls. Tomorrow morning, the bus to the portal site will be waiting in the parking garage, level B. It leaves at eight a.m. You are dismissed.”  
As the group started for the doors, Colin caught Chase's attention and motioned to him.  
“Yessir.”  
“Interesting bunch we've got this time.”  
Colin saw Chase's partner pause at the doors, “What do you know about that brasser?”  
Chase glanced toward the door, “Excuse me, sir. Brasser? You mean Buzzy?”  
Colin flipped through the clipboard, looking at the names, “Ah, no...sorry, um...the cheap date.”  
“Eris,” Chase rolled his eyes, “Not much. She applied for the program and somehow, through one cosmic fuck up or another, they picked her, begging your pardon for the language.”  
Colin waved him off, “No that's bang on, you ask me. I don't expect her to make it long. Garth neither...,” he flipped the papers back into place, “All I know, it's going to be an interesting ride. Thanks for the help. It streamlined the whole process.”  
Chase smiled, “My pleasure, sir.”  
“Colin please. I'm not that old yet.”   
“My pleasure, Colin,” Chase nodded, turned and trotted off to join Buzzy. Colin sat at the desk for a few minutes longer, finishing up the records, trying to find ways to keep his mind off of Asgard, off his guilt at not telling his parents he would be in New York for a couple of days so they could come visit him. He'd called last night, just before bed and his mother had cried just to hear his voice. If she'd been here, she would've kidnapped him back home in her suitcase. He'd called his grandad as well though that hadn't gone much better. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. No use putting it off. His next meeting of the day was with Fury. Might as well get on with it. He closed the briefcase, locked it and headed out the door.

 

“Simon, this isn't really a good idea,” Tony sat back in his chair, watching Simon pace back and forth before the desk, “I mean we've got company coming at nine tomorrow morning. We have to tidy up the place.”  
Simon ignored his jibes, “Everything's set. I'm not asking to leave on a bloody holiday, I'm asking to pay someone a visit for a few hours.”  
Tony leaned forward over the desk, “Harmand's going to be there isn't he.”  
“Yes,” Simon muttered.  
Tony pushed up from the desk, “Okay, just do me a favor,” Tony pushed up from the desk, “Tell me what you hope to get out of this exchange? I mean are you looking to defect or something?”  
Simon slowed his steps, “You cannot be serious.”  
“Hey I gotta ask,” Tony threw his hands in the air, “If you're not claiming citizenship or anything then what are you looking to do? Add names to your Christmas shopping list?”  
Simon took a deep breath and blew it out, “Have you never wanted answers to questions you've had your entire life? Who am I? What am I? How does my past connect with my future?”  
Tony rubbed the back of his neck, “Ah...nope. You want to know my motto? What matters right now, is this very moment. Oops, it's gone already. See, if you'd been paying attention, not chasing your tail...”  
“Well it's my tail to chase now, isn't it,” Simon stopped, “When Harmand first paid me a visit, you told me having connections might be an advantage in this realm, did you not?”  
Tony chewed his lip, glanced at the watch on his wrist, “Try not to take me at my word all the time...three hours, you have three hours until sunset. If you are not in your tent by night check, I will send Kenworth to fetch you even if he has to carry you out of there trussed up over his shoulder, mark my words.”  
“Understood,” Simon cleared his throat, “For......for most of my life...I have hidden behind walls, made myself small, unassuming, stayed out of the spotlight...the only thing I've reaped from this practice is a nervous condition I can't control most of the time...that and loneliness. I'm tired of it. Tired of being afraid, tired of being alone..”  
“You're not alone Simon...now,” Tony tapped his watch, “Tick tock, get going.”  
Simon strode to the office door, grabbed the handle, paused as if to say something but held himself in check as he shut the door behind him.

 

“Bah! However do the offworlders expect you to survive in such a world as this if you cannot read so much as a village sign?” Harmand slapped his palm on the page of a tome he'd laid open on Vargas's table.  
Simon felt his face grow hot. Lelia was sitting by the fire winding yarn into a ball, Trena beside her humming to herself as she fed the yarn to Lelia. He knew the seer was listening intently though she'd not ventured to burst forth with any predictions as of yet. Vargas stood beside the table, a flagon of ale in one large hand, Claire sat knitting while the three younger children played at her feet.  
“They didn't exactly expect us to leave the compound, at least not on our own..” Simon glanced at Lelia and she flashed him a smile so swiftly he was sure he'd imagined it.  
“Ye'll have to learn in time,” Vargas took a swig of his ale, “ 'Tis yer heritage. Surely they would not deny ye that.”  
Simon sighed, flipping through the pages of the tome, “Don't be too certain. Knowledge is a dangerous thing so I've been told.”  
“Ignorance is far worse,” Harmand stood, leaning over his shoulder and pointing at the strange words, “This tells of the power of the Rune Elementals. When they are gathered together, touched by the descendants of the first Protector, their power is unimaginable. Thereafter, they will fling themselves to the far reaches of the nine realms to await the time when they are summoned once again.”  
Simon reached down beside him into his satchel and pulled out the deck prism. Everyone in the room seemed to draw breath as the firelight reflected off the wavy green glass surface.  
“So then it means nothing if it stands by itself yet if it comes in contact with the other runes, it transforms...becomes this cosmic weapon thingy?”  
Harmand frowned at him, “Cosmic weapon....thingy? You are truly innocent of this realm. Everything in the palace reliquary stems from these runes, the cask of Jotunheim, the gauntlet, Odin's staff, the King's war hammer, all imbued with power from the runes.”  
“So then where are the other three?”  
Harmand looked away to Vargas whose lips tightened to a thin line as he sloshed the ale around in his flagon.  
“Of the four are now known but two,” Trena's singsong voice drifted over to them, “So the enemies of the realms might not simply gather them together when they see fit. 'Tis why you were kept unaware, Simon Foster as surely as the guardian of the remaining rune be.”  
“Well it's not of much use as a weapon if you've not the trigger now is it?” Simon looked out the window at the sun heading toward the horizon.  
“Precisely...,” Trena turned to him and for a moment he was sure she could see him, “the...trigger if you will, shall present itself when it is needed. Such is the beauty of the runes. They will converge again. It has happened in the past, it will happen in the future. It is the path we all tread together,” Trena rose from her rocking chair and shuffled over to him, “You are, all of you, drawn by an invisible thread. It is up to you whether to resist and remained fractured or become whole once more.”  
Simon rubbed the surface of the prism, held it up to stare inside, replaced it securely in his satchel, and stood up, “Food for thought, I say, however, my time is almost up, I have to be getting back to the encampment before they come looking for me.”  
Lelia stood from her stool by the fire, “Da, I'll see him to the trailhead.”  
Harmand raised an eyebrow, bringing his pipe up to give it a thoughtful puff as Vargas nodded to her, “Very well, see ye take a short sword with ye to be safe...,” Vargas glanced at Simon, “and be not overlong at it.”  
Lelia took her cloak from beneath her and wrapped it around her shoulders, giving Trena's shoulder a pat as she passed by on her way to the door.  
“You've been a gracious host, Milady,” Simon bowed to Claire, nodded to Vargas, shaking his hand, “I do hope to visit with you again soon.” and to his surprise he found he meant every word.  
“Aye, indeed, yer most welcome here.”  
Harmand stood from his chair, “Simon, will you think hard upon what we have spoken about? Perhaps you will consider a trip to Alfheim to the ancestral home in the near future. You have but to send word and I shall come to accompany you.”  
“It would likely take a lot more than just asking Stark's permission for something like that,” Simon smiled, “.....until this next group of people arrive and are sorted out, I've got to stay at the encampment,” he looked out the window, the sun had dipped below the tree line, “And I must be going before I'm dragged out of here by my collar.”  
Lelia opened the door for him and they stepped out into the dooryard, heading down the path to the fields.  
After a short distance, Simon cleared his throat, felt his face redden, “Ah...the palace... what I mean is....what I mean to say...ask...is how are things going with....for you at the palace?” He'd made such a cock up of the question he almost laughed out loud until her candid answer took him unawares.  
“Horrendous,” she swung her short sword at the stubble of the harvested barley stalks to their right, “The palace is full of gossip, intrigue, treachery..”  
“As bad as all that? I've found the palace to be quite lovely...in it's own primitive way..”  
Lelia frowned, “Ye do not live there, do ye? When I was given the royal summons to the palace, I was of a mind I'd be employed perhaps as a lady in waiting to the queen or a seamstress though as a lady, I'd need a sight more instruction but when I was brought to see me aunt, my heart fair crumbled.” She shook her head, “I begged Da to refuse them. He thought I was daft. “It's a right honor, me child!” he roared, “ 'Tis more than you would have marrying a farmer boy.” I told him a farmer boy would suit me full well.”  
“Mmm,” Simon mumbled, “I've a garden myself.”  
“What?” Lelia leaned forward to stare at him.  
“Ah oh, nothing. So why can't you find a farmer boy, or any boy really, I mean?”  
“Traditionally, the position of attendant means yer to be devoted to taking care of the seer, protecting her, living with her, and.....,” Lelia shuddered, “Eventually becoming a seer yerself.”  
“So why can you not marry then? Can you not take care of...,” he stopped himself. He'd been about to call Trena batty, “Can you not take care of Trena and find a husband?”  
Lelia laughed aloud, “Take care of the seer? And keep house, cook, clean? Raise children?”  
At this Simon smiled, “That's where your partner would come in. He could clean and cook...”  
Lelia stopped in her tracks, “What say ye? He? A man clean and cook and sew....ye truly are from a backwards place, Master Foster..”  
Simon looked back at her over his shoulder, “It's called sharing the load. It's not fair for the woman to do it all now is it?”  
“'Tis expected. How can a man do a woman's job as well as she can?”   
Simon walked back to her, pointing at the sword in her hand, “Can you fight like a man? Can you shoot game with your bow like a man?”  
Lelia tilted her head, “Better, when measured against some, but...”  
“Ah now, point taken.”  
They turned their heads to the edge of the forest where they heard the snap crack of something moving through the brush. A moment later, Kenworth stepped out onto the rutted road leading along the field.  
“Sorry, Simon. Stark said to head out.”  
Simon scowled, “I was on my way.”  
He turned to Lelia, “Does your job allow someone to call upon you?”  
Lelia shook her head, “No...it would be looked on unfavorably....”  
Simon glanced at the road, trying to hide his disappointment.  
“But....if you were to arrive unexpectedly. I daresay they couldn't turn you away..”  
Simon bit his lip to hold his smile in check, “If I am at the palace in the near future then, I will pay you a visit,” he bowed to her and she tipped her sword to him.  
“Safe journey, Simon of Foster.”  
“And to you Lelia.”  
“Come on,” Kenworth sighed, “It's getting dark.”  
Simon watched Lelia race back up the road, turned and walked into the woods.


	34. 34

The zipper pull on Eris's backpack seemed to dance about in an attempt to escape her trembling fingers. She'd learned a great deal from her books but the valuable stuff, things she would need to know to survive on her own in the realm, had been taught to the group while they waited to cross over through the portal. To that end, she'd inspected her pack at least four times now, making sure she had everything she needed, her books, the horrendous dresses she'd been given as required garments, her makeup, couldn't leave home without that, some jewelry and a small change purse filled with quarters, dimes, nickels. They weren't the currency in Asgard. The rest she could figure out later. Packing was the easy part in fact, pulling off her next big trick was going to take a lot of skill and a shitload of luck.

 

“Loki!” Eidra laughed, breathless, “The children...!”  
“...Are not here,” he rasped in her ear, taking the lobe between his teeth, “I told them....I would fetch the horses...Eidra...attar of roses...you know it drives me mad...”  
She halfheartedly pushed against his chest. “But the sun is already up...”  
“A pox upon the sun,” he pressed her to the stable wall, his fingers raising the skirt of her dress as he dove to nuzzle the hollow of her throat. She cursed him silently for knowing her weakness, pulling his head down to suckle the swell of one breast straining to free itself from her bodice, felt his arm curl around her waist.  
“Lo..ki...,”  
“My tenderest love...,” he looked up to the ceiling over the stall, “Shall we to the loft? It has been an age since last we hid up there, do you recall?”  
Eidra put a hand to her mouth, struck by a fit of giggles. She did indeed remember. It was a situation quite similar to the one they were in now. Overcome with lust one afternoon as they walked the barley fields and knowing Ingrid was inside the manor with the children, they had repaired to the loft to slake their desire, rather loudly as it were. Eldred, the stable boy, hearing the sounds from afar, had come running with a pitchfork to confront whatever demons had taken up residence. They had hidden in the shadows, listening to the stable boy call out, “Show yourself or suffer the prick of my tines!”  
Loki had touched her hand, given her a wink and stood up, walking to the edge of the loft to peer down at the stable boy. Still hidden, Eidra heard the pitchfork drop to the ground with a sharp clack while Eldred stammered, “M..Milord..Loki....forgive me.”   
It was then that Loki gestured to her to join him. She would never forget the look on the stable boy's face as he realized what they'd been on about. Just thinking of it now gave her over to another fit of laughter.  
“No fair! You have a head start!” came Fen's voice not far from the stables. Loki sighed, letting Eidra's skirt drop from his hand.  
“Opportunity lost.”  
Eidra drew him forward to kiss the corner of his mouth, “Lost? No, merely put off. If you like, we shall bring our heavy covers out here tonight and see if we might not frighten the stable boy again.”  
“Indeed,” Loki grinned, “I shall endeavor to make you howl.”  
“Papa, gods!” Brenna cried as she burst into the stable, “How can you speak so? I do declare you shall never act your age.”  
“Ears like a rabbit,” he muttered as Fen, seconds later, ground to a winded halt beside her, “It was not a fair race.”  
“Brenna, where is it written I must drop the mantle of youth and take up the crutch. Am I at last in my dotage?” Loki reached for Lightning's bridle hanging on the wall.  
“Oh Papa, I did not say you were old as such but you are a parent. 'Tis revolting to hear you speak as if you were a young swain.”  
“Then you should not endeavor to listen so closely in the future. Take Willow today. She needs more time with the saddle upon her back...and see that you hurry, we must not be late to the longhouses.”  
As she walked past the stall to fetch her bridle, she rolled her eyes, “ 'Twould not be my fault if we were late indeed.”

 

Colin yawned, ticking off the members of the group as they passed him by to board the charter bus. Mister Mindel, smiling broadly. Garth, looking as if he would bolt at any minute. Eris, dressed more conservatively than the last time he'd seen her. Chase, Buzzy bringing up the rear.  
“You ready for this?” Colin nodded at him.  
“More than you know, sir.” Chase smiled as he hauled himself onto the bus.  
Colin glanced about the city street, set his tablet under his arm, “That makes two of us.”

 

Eris filed into the elevator behind Chase and Buzzy, taking a spot beside him, discretely entwining her fingers into his.  
“Nervous?” Buzzy whispered as the elevator started to rise.  
“Sure, wouldn't you be?”  
Buzzy shook his head, “Naw, Mister Denehy said it's like walking through an open door. Nothing to it.”  
Colin nodded, “Nothing at all.”  
“But the technology...it's new isn't it?”  
“Mhmm,” Colin watched her fidget with the marker around her wrist, “You'll do fine.”  
Eris grinned, “I hope so.”

 

Tony was bent over Simon's shoulder as he sat at the main computer bank when Brenna opened the longhouse door. Tony looked up and waved her over.  
“Brenna. I'm glad you could make it today,” Tony tapped his head as Loki and Fen approached, “How is your.....you know...how are you feeling?”  
Brenna wrinkled her nose, “A headache here and there. Tired from time to time but otherwise I am well.”  
“Good. Loki how the hell are you?”  
Loki gazed up at the portal, “Fair.”  
Tony clapped his hands together, “And that's the best we can hope for folks. It's almost go time again. Are we excited or what? I know I am.”  
Loki crossed his arms, “I would hardly call what I am feeling excitement.”  
“Indigestion then?” Tony glanced at the screen where Simon sat, touched it and drew the image into his hand, holding it up to Loki's face, “We're running at ninety percent right now. I love those super solar cells. Are you sure you don't want to run a grid through the palace? I could wire you guys up in a week tops. It'd be like Menlo park all over again.”  
“Tell me,” Loki gingerly pushed the image out of the way, “Are you ever at a loss for words?”  
“I can't help it,” Tony threw the image back to the computer screen, earning a backward look from Simon, “The more nervous I get, the more hyper I become. It's a coping mechanism for me. I can't wait to see the portal in action again,” he winked at Brenna who giggled.  
“Papa,” Fen had moved to stare at the screen before Simon, “Might I try the portal soon?”  
“No,” Loki replied, seemed to ponder something, repeated his answer, “No.”  
Fen frowned, “After my rite of passage, perhaps?”  
“Oh yeah, that's coming up,” Tony cried, “Congratulations, son!” he moved to shake Fen's hand but Loki grunted.  
“Congratulations would be in order after the rite, when he has passed his tests.”  
“Well we know he's going to do just fine, right? I mean the ink on the diploma is already dry, you just gotta walk across the podium.”  
“I do not ken..”Fen tilted his head receiving a gentle cuff from Brenna.  
“Mister Stark is merely teasing you. He likens your rite of passage to a Midgardian graduation ceremony.”  
Tony shook his head, “Ah it loses its punch when you have to explain it.”

 

Colin had ushered the group into a large room where the portal base stood, surrounded a vast bank of computer screens and holographic readouts hovering above the technicians sitting before them. Now the group stood staring at the portal base..  
“It doesn't look anything like I thought it would,” Eris murmured.  
“It's not turned on yet.” Colin eyed the door. For once, Fury was late.  
Mister Mindel, his eyes closed, was muttering something to himself, hands clasped before his chest.  
“You okay?” Colin tapped him on the shoulder and he started forward.  
“Oy gevalt! Yes, yes I was simply reciting a prayer for our safe journey.” Mister Mindel adjusted his glasses, “Not that I don't trust this giant atom scrambler, no...I'm just taking out a little insurance, huh?”  
“Add us to your list of recipients will you?” Colin chuckled.  
The door slid open, drawing everyone's attention away from the portal to see Fury standing behind them.  
“I trust you are all ready to go. Made your calls, packed your toothbrushes?”  
Everyone nodded assent, more or less. Garth just stared ahead at nothing.  
“Good. I'm not going to bore you with details you already know. I'm only going to say to you all, good luck.” Fury made a twirling motion in the air and a loud hum filled the room.  
They all turned to gape at the large electromagnetic cubes which had been sitting atop the portal base, now suspended in a circle around a hole in the fabric of space.  
“Alright now, who's first?” Colin called.

 

Kenworth and Ardsley had joined the circle of people surrounding the portal, looking through the hole the cubes had created.  
“There's Fury,” Kenworth pointed at the portal, “Bet we won't see him stepping through this thing.”  
Ardsley gave a laugh, “He'd be the first to do it if he had to. Do not dis a brother.”  
Tony gave them a look which closed their mouths.  
“What are they waiting for?” Loki groused, “Jul?”  
“Probably drawing straws to see who goes first,” Tony moved for a better view, “Give 'em a minute.”

 

“ Avrum Mindel, step up to the portal please,”   
Colin smiled as the elderly gentleman beat a surprising quick step up the ramp and stopped before him. The man was quivering with excitement, gripping his cane with both hands.  
“Okay, what you see is what's on the other side. It's like walking through a door just as I said.”  
Mister Mindel looked behind him down the ramp at the others and bowed his head, muttering, “Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu, melekh ha'olam poke'ach ivrim.”   
When he glanced up at Colin, he gave a sheepish smile, “Or, to you Gentiles, Blessed are you, Lord our God, King of the universe, who opens the eyes of the blind.”  
“I think it's a little late for prayer at this point, Mister Mindel. Are you ready?”  
Mister Mindel gave a short nod, took a deep breath and stepped through.

 

“Good Freyr, he looks as old as Clotho!” Loki exclaimed as one of the agents trotted up the ramp to help the elderly gentleman down to the floor.  
“Eighteen and up, the guidelines say,” Tony smiled at the man who was headed toward them, “Don't count him out yet.”  
Loki saw Brenna step up to the old man to shake his hand and he grinned. When she happened to look up at him as the old man moved to stand beside her, he mouthed, “Well done.”  
She gave him a thumbs up and returned her attention to the portal.

 

One by one the people passed through the portal. Garth had to be prodded a bit though he didn't seem reluctant, on the contrary he looked flabbergasted. Buzzy practically ran up the ramp, giving Colin a salute as he stepped through. Chase walked up to the portal and peered into it, “Damn it. I didn't expect that.”  
“What's wrong?” Colin joined him, looking through the portal where he could see Tony, Loki Brenna and Fen standing at the bottom of the ramp, “You alright?”  
Chase nodded, “Yeah I'm fine...,” he adjusted his jacket, held tight to his backpack, “Just fine.”  
“Okay then, yer up.”  
“See you on the other side,” Chase shook Colin's hand and stepped through..

 

Brenna grabbed Fen's arm hard, “Odin wept!”  
“Ow!” Fen cried, “Brenna what is wrong.....ohhhh.”  
Chase trotted down the ramp, held out his hand to Tony who shook it, “Sir.”  
Tony smiled, “Glad you could make it.”  
Chase turned and bowed to Loki who was staring at him, “Sir, good to see you again.”  
“Indeed,” he growled as Chase moved to Brenna who had been standing there open mouthed for the last minute, Fen's arm still in an iron grip.  
“Surprise?”  
His comment seemed to break the spell over her as she let go of Fen to point her finger at his chest.  
“Not as surprised as I was when you never returned my calls!”  
Chase backed up, noting Loki's smug grin as Brenna lit into him.  
“Hey, you don't exactly have cell service here in Asgard!”  
“I spent a week this spring last at Sophie's parents house on Midgard and you did not return one call. Not one! I left half a dozen messages at minimum!”  
Chase looked at Fen who was judiciously backing away from Brenna, shaking his head.  
“Well after our last phone conversation,” Chase cried, “I wasn't ready to butt heads with you again..”

 

Eris wiped her palms on her skirt and hefted her backpack onto her shoulder. At the top of the ramp, Colin was waving her upward, an impatient look on his face. Behind her, the big black man with the eye patch was staring at her. She had rehearsed this in the privacy of her hotel room over and over again, walking from the bathroom to the bedroom, bedroom to the bathroom. If she didn't make this look like an accident, her plan would be a bust. On the bright side, she'd still be there even if she had to spend her time playing medieval milk maid. She shuddered at the thought as she sauntered up the ramp to stand in front of Colin.  
“Point of no return,” he tapped the tablet screen, “I'll follow behind you.”  
Through the portal, Eris could see the members of the group standing there, waiting for her. She smiled at them and stepped forward across the threshold.

 

Simon looked up at the portal in time to see the foot of the woman coming through the portal dissolve into thin air, the effect carrying up her leg to her waist, her torso, her arm. The further into the portal she advanced, the more of her was disappearing. Simon jumped up from his chair before the computer screens, nearly tripping headlong over the chair legs as he scrambled around the tables.  
“Jesus Christ! Tell her to stop moving!”  
Everyone was staring up the ramp however, stunned into silence as the woman winked out of existence.  
“Oh shit!” Tony turned to Simon who was now standing beside him, a hand over his mouth, “Simon what the fuck is going on? Where in hell is she?”

 

Eris stood, smiling, at the top of the ramp watching the chaos she had created. She'd done it, she'd really done it! It had been perfection! She'd willed her body to disappear starting with her foot and continuing as she stepped through the portal. The man she'd immediately identified as the billionaire Tony Stark was now standing over another man with sandy colored hair, gesturing toward a computer screen and yelling at him. She glanced over her shoulder, back through the portal. The man with the eyepatch was on a cell phone, standing at the top of the ramp beside an awestruck Agent Denehy.  
The ramp was wide enough for at least three people to walk abreast but at the bottom of the ramp a swarm of people were creating a minefield for her to navigate. She would have to pick her way through them to get outside. She looked about the room for a doorway.

 

“This situation needs to get un-fucked ASAP!” Fury yelled into the phone then glanced over the edge of the ramp where technicians were scrambling to accommodate him, “I want a complete diagnostic run on this death trap! Now!”  
Colin felt sick to his stomach. He could have, should have grabbed Eris's hand and pulled her back from the portal but he'd been too shocked to do anything save watch as she disappeared inch by inch until she was gone.

 

Eris started down the ramp toward the group who had been moved back by a man in a suit. She would have liked to thank him for making a path but now wasn't exactly the time. She bit her tongue to hold back the giggles that threatened to escape, kept her gaze glued to the ramp until she felt the vibration of someone walking toward her and looked up. Advancing up the ramp was a man straight out of her daydreams. Tall, lean but well proportioned, black wavy hair with just a touch of gray at the temples, high cheekbones, aquiline nose, long legs, arms, graceful hands, stunning blue green eyes. He was dressed in one of the long shirts like Colin had shown them and a pair of tight pants, a green cloak fastened at his shoulders. She was so captivated she stopped in her tracks, watching him close in on her until he was inches away. She stepped to one side at the last second, feeling the hem of his cloak brush her leg. He came to a dead stop whirling about, studying the ramp behind him. If she moved just right, she could have reached up and touched his face. She knew she was becoming distracted. If she didn't get outside as soon as possible, she was bound to run into someone. After all how could they avoid what they couldn't see?   
“Loki, what's wrong?” she heard Tony Stark call to him  
The man shook his head as he resumed his path up the ramp, “Nothing.....nothing...”  
Loki? Eris watched the man stop at the portal limit as she recalled the stories in her books, the letters that had been with them. More vibrations as she saw a man in a suit start up the ramp after Loki. She stepped aside to let him pass. As she reached the bottom and hurried away from the ramp, she saw Chase standing beside a pretty young woman, both of them looking up at the portal. She saw Buzzy in the crowd, his hands over his mouth, face pale. She almost felt sorry for him, not enough to reveal herself, mind you, but she wished she'd given him one last ride last night before they turned in.  
At the sound of a door slamming shut, Eris scanned the room. Two more men in native garb were hurrying toward the ramp, behind them were a set of large double doors. Eris trotted to the doors, waiting for them to open again. Luckily she didn't have to wait long as another man pushed through the door moments later. She slipped between the closing door out into the sun shining over Asgard.

Fury stood at the edge of the ramp glaring down at the technicians. Colin, meanwhile, was standing at the portal.  
“What have you got on yer end now?”  
Loki shook his head, “I know not what they have found, if anything. Stark is saying the woman might have stepped into one of the other realms. Perhaps her marker was not...configured right?”  
Colin scratched his head, “I suppose so but if we're going to look for her, we've got to close the portal and open it to the right spot, correct?”  
Loki nodded, “If I am to ken Stark.”  
Colin was itching to get back to Asgard. The more time it took, the more he feared Fury was going to tell him to stay where he was. The portals could only stay open so long, especially in Asgard. The power expended from the solar cells would quickly be depleted at such a high rate of intake.  
Colin turned to Fury, “Director, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to help the Asgardians figure out this fuckarow.”  
Colin had a brief moment of panic as he stepped forward through the portal, wondering if he too would wink out of existence, saw Fury turn, heard him start to yell at him, caught Loki's panicked stare as he walked forward. Then Colin was standing beside him on the ramp, the cubes dropping to the portal base with a heavy clang.  
“Colin, what if you had suffered the fate of the woman!” Loki exclaimed, “Are you mad?”  
Colin clasped Loki's forearm, “It would still be a sight better than getting stuck in Midgard with an angry Director.”  
At his confession, Loki chuckled, “Indeed. Welcome home, my friend!”  
“And glad I am to be home though   
I'll probably get me arse ripped out when I get back to Shield. For now, though, we'd better take care of the rest of the group and get started on what went wrong.” Together they headed down the ramp to join Tony and Simon.

 

It was well past the noon hour before the remainder of the group were shown to the wagons outside the longhouse for the ride to the palace where Thor was waiting to formally greet them.  
When the incident at the portal had occurred, Brenna's disagreement with Chase had been cut short as everyone scrambled to find out what had happened but he expected, as soon as she was able, she would find him and continue to line him out. Instead, she stayed as far from him as she could until the wagons started to roll along and she rode up to the wagon at the front of the line on a horse. She leaned over to speak to the driver, straightened up to look back at him.  
At first he thought she would ride back to continue their joyful reunion but she joined Loki and the others at the head of the caravan.  
Chase leaned back against the slats, glancing across the wagon bed to see Buzzy glowering at him.  
“Hey, for what it's worth I'm sorry about Eris.”  
But Buzzy shook his head, “There's a fuck of a lot you didn't tell me back on Earth isn't there.”  
Chase put a finger to his lips, “Listen, I'll tell you later. Now is not the time to discuss it..”  
Buzzy waved his arms about him, causing the others in the wagon to stare at him, “Look where the hell we are. I think this is the perfect place to discuss it!”  
They were interrupted by the clop of horses hooves. Chase turned to see Brenna pass by the wagon on her way down the line, her head held high. Screw Buzzy, screw the lot of them.  
“Brenna!” he called to her but she ignored him.  
“Brenna!!” he shouted, watched her back stiffen as she reined in her horse, bringing it about to trot back to the wagon.  
“Honestly? You would make a spectacle of yourself?” she hissed, pulling alongside the wagon though she kept her eyes forward.  
“Sorry, I thought you wanted to finish our talk,” he rose to his knees, “Figured you'd missed which wagon I was riding in.”  
He stole a glance up at her, thrilled to see she was biting her lip hard to counter the smile that was trying to steal it's way out.  
“I did not. I was checking on everyone as I was told to do, now if you will excuse me, I must return to my duties.”  
She clucked to her horse but before she was two steps from the wagon, Chase yelled to her again, “Brenna, wait!”  
“No!” she twisted in the saddle to glare at him, “Not here....,” her eyes swept the wagon, “Not now.”  
Chase stood up and before she could stop him, he'd leaped over the side of the wagon to land in the road below, stumbling to the side before he dropped to roll clear of the wagon wheels. He heard Brenna give a shriek, “Chase!...Halt, HALT!”  
The wagon behind him skidded to a stop as he hauled himself to his feet and scrambled for the tall grass along the side of the road.  
“Have you taken leave of your senses?!” Brenna shouted as she jumped down from the horse and ran over to him, “Do you wish to get yourself killed?”  
He stood, brushing himself free of dirt and grass, aware that everyone was staring at him.  
“I thought you'd be the one to throw me underneath the wheels. I was going to save you the trouble.”  
“Chase Wells! Of all the horrible things to say!”  
He stood there, defiant. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Loki and Colin galloping down the line of halted wagons.  
“Get back up into the wagon at once!”  
“I figured we could walk instead...you and me.”  
Brenna hurried to grab Willow's reins, “Chase we have no time to walk. We must get you and the others to the palace.”  
“What in the name of Odin has happened?!” Loki pulled Lightning to a halt before Brenna and Chase.  
“He jumped out of the wagon, Papa,” Brenna walked over to Chase, “and I was just helping him back in.”  
“I actually wanted to walk. I mean if it's okay with you, sir.”  
He caught Brenna's look of panic as Loki trotted over to him and pointed at him with his riding crop.  
“It is most certainly not. You shall get back on this wagon and we will continue on to the palace. Do you ken?”  
“I don't see what's...”  
“Chase,” Fen had reached them, sliding down from his horse to the ground, “Do you recall how to ride?”  
“Yeah,” Chase looked up at Loki, almost felt pity for Fen but he seized the chance, “I do.”  
“Then I will ride in the wagon, you may take Blackberry.” Fen climbed up the back step and settled himself on one of the covered hay bales.  
Chase pulled himself up into the saddle as Loki exclaimed, “Does no one feel they should listen to me?” Loki brought Lightning even with Blackberry, “Were we not already behind schedule I would put you on the wagon personally....” he looked at Brenna who had mounted Willow again, “See that you do not fall behind...”   
As he passed the wagon, he paused beside it, fixing Fen with a glare, “We shall talk later.”  
Loki signaled to the caravan as he started at a gallop to the front of the line. Before he followed suit, Colin nodded to Chase, “And we will have a sit down ourselves.”  
Chase knew he was going to be sore later. He hadn't been on a horse maybe twice since his last visit to Asgard if the truth were known but it would be worth it.   
He managed to turn Blackberry in the right direction and coax her into a trot, catching up with Brenna.  
“Okay so now we're alone,”  
“What of it?” she muttered, kicking Willow into a faster pace.  
“Well now we can talk.”  
“I do not believe there is anything to talk about.”  
Chase pulled the reins to the left, trying to steer Blackberry closer to Brenna but the horse kept on the same tack, shaking her head as if to say “No, stupid human. Keep your distance lest she toss you off my back!”  
“Damnit, I'd like to talk about us...dumb horse!”  
Brenna regarded him icily, “'Tisn't the horse that is ignorant... and there is no more “us”.”  
“And here I thought my nearly getting killed would soften that hard heart of yours.”  
“After that suicide attempt?” she spat, “You will be lucky if Colin does not send you back home.”   
“Well then I'd better talk quickly huh?”  
Once again he could see her jaw shift as she tried not to smile. She slowed her pace to fall even with him.  
“Well then what do you have to say to me that is so pressing you would throw yourself beneath a wagon wheel?”  
“Ah, um. Well, how is your mom?”  
“Truly?”  
“I'm just starting with the basics,” Chase shrugged, “Geez I liked your Mom. She was always good to me.”  
“She is fine,” Brenna sighed, “She rides today to Rialo with Helgi. They are bringing Sally to stay with us for a time.”  
“Helgi is still around? Wow, she's gotta be pushing like eighty?”  
Brenna scowled at him, “She is but seventy five seasons....and you make her sound as if she has one foot in the grave.”  
“Well she's old for sure. How about the twins? They must be getting big now.”  
Her face softened and Chase felt his stomach knot. He was glad he'd begged Tony for the chance to come to Asgard. He and Brenna had had their differences after Chase's father had lost his mind. He'd done some assinine things and it had torn them apart but he'd never stopped loving her. Now was not the time to tell her, however.  
“They are all of four seasons..., “ she hesitated and Chase watched her work over what to say next, “Astrid is bright, a beauty. She looks most like my mother. Brynn has the breathing sickness, what Midgardians call asthma but he is strong...” Brenna stopped talking abruptly and Chase looked at her.  
“What? What's wrong?”  
She shook her head.  
“What? You forget to be mad again?..OW!”  
She had smacked him in the leg with her riding crop,“I hate you!”   
“If you did, you would've let the wagon run me over,” Chase rubbed his leg, smiling,   
Brenna narrowed her eyes, “I shall endeavor to look for another opportunity then.”  
They rode in silence for a few more minutes until Chase leaned over to her, “For what it's worth, I've missed you.”  
“For what it is worth, I still hate you.” She replied, though her tone was considerably softer.  
Chase sat straighter in the saddle, happier than he'd been in a very long time, “I know.”


	35. 35

Eris hadn't allowed herself to slow down until she was a good distance away from the longhouses. Twice she'd almost twisted her ankle, at last taking her high heels off and tossing them into her backpack. She had then hidden in the trees far from the rutted road she'd been walking on, changing into the hated dress she'd been given before they left New York. When she looked down at herself, she laughed out loud.   
“I look like a fucking extra in Les Miserable.”  
She couldn't believe her idea had worked. She was sure that with all their high tech gadgets, it would only be a matter of time before they discovered what she'd done. However, they were still in a panic as she strolled out of the longhouse. Buzzy had looked devastated but he'd get over it.  
As she neared the road again, her excitement started to abate, giving way to confusion, then to anxiety. She'd pulled it off, now what? Where was she going to go? Hell, she didn't even know where anything was. Colin hadn't exactly hand out maps with a “YOU ARE HERE” star on it when they arrived at Stark tower.  
First, she had to find shelter, preferably a comfortable bed with a solid roof over her head and something to eat before the day was out. Beyond this, she was uncertain. She looked down at the portal marker strapped to her wrist, useless. She couldn't activate one of the portals. They'd bring her right back to the longhouse and she had no intention of returning to Earth in handcuffs. She had  
Then she thought of the man she'd seen on the portal ramp, the one they'd called Loki. She was determined to cross his path again and this time he would be able to see her. There wasn't a man she'd set her sights on yet that she hadn't managed to seduce.  
The sound of horses hooves approaching in front of her made her stomach do a flip flop but she never faltered. Pulling her hair back from her face, she moved to the grassy side of the road. As the horse neared, she chanced a glance up at the rider, a well dressed young man with a velvet green cloak slung over his shoulder. As he made even with her, he brought his horse up short, bowed to her and suddenly he was speaking to her. She couldn't understand one word, Shit. Might as well go for broke.  
“Excuse me?”  
“Ah, no excuse me. I thought you might have hailed from Alfheim. Most of the beautiful maids I have had the pleasure of meeting have been inevitably Alfari, therefore I endeavored to speak to you in Alfari. Forgive me.”  
Eris smiled, hoping she could play the part she was going to take on, “I....hail from, um. Asgard in fact.”  
“What a strange accent you have. And where, might I inquire, are you headed this lovely day?”  
For real? He was buying it? “I am seeking shelter for the evening.”  
The young man's smile widened as he shifted in the saddle, “You are on a journey then?”  
Boy was she on a journey. Still, all things in good time.The day was already half over. She might have the food and shelter option covered tonight but she doubted the free ride would last forever. She was going to have to find a way to make some quick money just like anywhere else. All she had to do was sound intelligent. Alex would never have been able to pull this off.  
“I am searching for employment for I am alone.”  
The young man jumped down from his horse, “I find that hard to believe. One so beautiful as you, traveling alone? Tell me, what skills have you to offer?”  
Eris averted her eyes, smiled coyly at him, “I have many talents.”  
Oh yes, this was going to be easy.

 

 

_Assignment: 64379-01  
Location: Asgard_

_Agent: Colin M. Denehy  
Date: 9/9/29_

_If anything could go wrong today, it did. After the fiasco at the longhouse, the portals were taken offline pending a complete battery of diagnostic testing. Loki suggested we meet privately with Thor to inform him of the tragedy personally. Simon admitted it was a distinct possibility that she'd simply vanished, lost in limbo between realms, what with the unpredictable nature of the portals themselves. Stark just stood there looking up at the portal, back to the computers, muttering to himself , saying “you wanted chaos, you got it,” and wishing Ms. Potts were there. We left him to work on the portals and headed to the palace to deliver the remaining members of the group to the King.  
Then of course there was the problem with Chase which, by the way, was also Stark's fault though I didn't know it until long after we'd arrived at the palace and had a chance to speak to him alone. On the way there, however, I received an earful from Loki. He was about as mad as I'd ever seen him, upbraiding me for bringing the Wells boy here to Asgard until he realized I'd not a clue about the history between Brenna and Chase. I explained to Loki that just because I was an agent didn't mean I was privy to every reported incident. Before this assignment, in fact, I had been classified level six which meant that I was lucky to read about the odd happening in the daily papers. When he questioned me as to how I'd then garnered a ticket to Asgard, I told him I wagered my name was likely drawn out of a hat. After a tick or two, he stood down, apologizing for his outburst. I told him it was no trouble, if I had a lovely daughter, I'd be locking her up in a tower myself. Strike two for my loose gob. Still and all he didn't bar me from his house, he even smiled at my compliment.   
If it was possible, King Thor was even more surprised to see Chase back in Asgard, asking him how he'd come to return to this realm. Right about then, Loki chose to tell me Chase was a graduate of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. It was a knee jerk reaction, my gripping Loki's arm. If I hadn't, I'd have been tits up on the floor. In one fell swoop, Stark had bypassed the biggest rule in the book; no mutants allowed in the program. At least not from Midgard. I could see I was going to be having a long sit down with Stark later on.  
When the members of the group had received their assignments, and were about meeting their prospective host families, I seized my chance, dragging Chase away to hear his side of the story, and what a story it was. By the end of the feast, my head like to have popped off but now I had a better understanding of what Loki was so angry about. Couldn't say as I blamed him but Chase claimed he was out to mend the rift between Brenna and himself. All at once I felt insanely jealous of him, not that it mattered now seeing as Brenna and I were practically related if the records were to be believed. Still and all I secretly hoped he would fall flat on his face. As luck would have it, I'll be seeing a bit more of him than I'd like to. His assignment is the encampment at the longhouses. Mister Mindel has been assigned to the palace where he will be given quarters to stay in. He will spend his time on Asgard with its most noted scholars roaming the stacks of the royal library, learning to read Asgardian. “Like my yeshiva days,” he mused, a smile lighting up his lined face.   
Garth the Sullen was also given a place in the palace, in the stables to be precise. It was the first time I saw him smile. Turns out he used to help at a racetrack summers in Upstate New York and loved it. Score one for proper placement. The rest of the group went to farmers, artisans, the young couple, Mister and Mrs. Underwood were given to a middle-aged potterer and her husband. They seemed quite eager for their tenure to begin. Mister Underwood was himself a sculptor. Some research had obviously been done to pair this group with acceptable host families. Made my job a bit easier.  
Now as I lay here in bed finishing my report, I have time to think of Eris, sadly enough. I can't but wonder what must have been going through her mind as she stepped out of existence. Looking back on it, I must have been bonkers to walk through right behind her. I could have well suffered the same fate as Loki was fond to point out at least a dozen times thereafter. I suppose it says something for Asgard and my adopted family that I was willing to risk scrambling my molecules to the nine realms for a return ticket back. Right now the only way to travel between realms is the Bifrost or the Uruz.   
I hear heavy steps outside my door. Loki is heading back downstairs to the sitting room. With Eidra away at Sally's, he has trouble sleeping. She should return tomorrow I hope. When we arrived home this evening, Ingrid was having all she could do to settle the children. Astrid wanted Papa to sit with her but Cait wouldn't be consoled, she wanted Mama as did Brynn. A mother is the center of the family no matter where one goes, even to another dimension, Eidra is no exception.   
Tomorrow it's back to the longhouses. Hopefully Stark will have some answers, any answers as to what the hell happened to Eris, and precisely what the fuck he was thinking with Chase._

 

Brenna heard the soft rap on her bedroom door and quickly closed the small wooden box in her lap.  
“Bren, are you still awake?”  
“Yes,” she sighed, “What do you want?”  
“I want to talk to you,” Fen opened the door a crack, “Might I come in?”  
Brenna shoved the box beneath the covers beside her, “I do not know why I should let you but if I do not, you will likely whine until I do.”  
Fen trotted over to her bed and plopped down at the end, tucking his feet under his night shift, “Are you still angry with me for letting Chase take my horse?”  
“Yes,” she fluffed the covers over her legs, crossed her arms, “I did not wish to speak with him.”  
“But you did.”  
Brenna refrained from tossing her pillow at Fen, “Because it would have been rude to ignore him.”  
Fen saw the folded piece of paper peeking out from the coverlet at her stomach, “You are re-reading the letters he sent you when you were still in school on Midgard.”  
“What I am reading is none of your affair,” she tucked the letter further beneath the blanket.  
Fen rested his chin on his knees, “When you broke off your engagement with Chase, you cried for a fortnight and more. Each evening I would hear you on the other side of the wall and I would become so enraged I would dream of flogging Chase with Papa's riding crop, sending him to Jotunheim to freeze.”  
“You little worm!” Brenna scolded though she reached for his neck, pulling him down on the bed beside her, “Trying to protect me, and you still a boy.”  
“I will be a man by the next moon,” Fen put his hands behind his head, “Then I will be able to defend your honor properly.”  
Brenna reached over, poking him in the side, “My honor does not need defending...” she slid the letter out from under the blanket, “Truth be told, it is my heart that is defenseless.”  
Fen sat up, “Then it is settled. You will not talk to him again.”  
“You sound like Papa! I cannot simply ignore Chase now that he is here in Asgard.”  
“Why?”  
“Go to bed,” Brenna pushed at him, “You ask too many questions.”  
Fen jumped to the floor, “I will never ken girls. They say one thing yet do another.”  
“You will ken when you are older, now go before I call Papa.”  
Fen shrugged, headed for the door.  
“Fen?”  
He paused, looked over his shoulder.  
“Thank you.”  
He turned around, “For what?”  
“For wanting to defend me. For giving Chase your horse.”  
Fen gave her a crooked smile and shook his head as he crept into the hall, closing the door behind him. Brenna took the wooden box from beneath the coverlet and brought it to her wardrobe, setting it at the bottom. She returned then to her bed , sitting there upon the mattress staring at the flame of the lantern for a long time, her thoughts miles distant and years past.

 

“Do not think on it so much,” Gretten smiled at her, “If you must, you can return over the Bifrost.”  
Beth yanked her hands back across the table, “Now why did you have to say that? I've told you how upset I get when I think about leaving.”  
Gretten reached over the table to reclaim them, “And we have discussed this as well. If need be, I will give up my position and follow you.”  
“God in heaven, don't lets get into that again,” Beth groaned though she kept her hands locked into his, “I seriously doubt they'll go for it.”  
“You yourself said there are plans for Asgardians to travel to Midgard. I will simply volunteer. You cannot expect me to stay here especially not...,” he leaned to one side to peer through the dining room into the empty sitting room. Still he lowered his voice to a whisper, “Especially not with our little secret.”  
“Gretten, my dear,” she squeezed his hands, “You would step off the Bifrost, look around and climb back up to Asgard if you could. Earth....Midgard is like another planet with electric lights, cars, computers, TV, planes. Oooo, scary.”  
“I am a dwarf. We adapt to survive. We will be together....the three of us. No child of mine is going to grow up fatherless.”  
Beth put her head down on her arms. She'd already had visions of herself waddling across the stage at St. Rose to receive her degree in the spring.   
“I can't handle this. I just can't. I swear I only came here to write my final paper. I didn't come here to find...,” she paused, added softly, “to find you...”  
“Are you sorry then?” he let go of her hands,   
She slid around the table to sit beside him, locking her arm into his, “I am most certainly not sorry. I found a man who loves food...loves cooking...,” she put her head on his shoulder, “loves me...I just can't see how we're going to make this work and we've got three months in which to do it. That girl getting zapped into oblivion just set me off is all.”  
“Rest assured I will do everything in my power...” Gretten began but Beth sat up.  
“What power? Let's be honest with each other. You're a cook, I'm a college student. You know what that adds up to? Zilch, zero. I go to the Mighty Thor and say, “Hey, Gretten and I, we got a thing going. We're gonna have a baby so is it okay if I bunk up with him? Hang around Asgard for a bit longer?” He's going to laugh in my face, or worse.”  
Gretten put a finger to his lips, “Do not get in such a lather. The last thing we want is for Lord Loki to hear us.”  
Beth stared at the ceiling, “Maybe he's the one we should talk to in the first place.”  
Gretten slapped a hand to his bald head, “And you think the King would take us to task...Lord Loki has a quicker temper.”  
Beth rose from the table. Her head was starting to ache, she was feeling churlish, “Hell, he's got five kids, you'd think he would understand human nature. Sometimes things don't always go as planned.”  
“Lord Loki does not easily tolerate failure, especially where rules are concerned,” Gretten stood before her, taking her face in his hands, “Will you trust me to find a solution to this dilemma?”  
Suddenly everything felt surreal, her final thesis sitting upon the table open on the tablet, graduation day in New York, her home back on Earth. It was as if they were fading into the background, becoming part of a past she was beginning to bury.  
“Gretten, I'll do whatever you tell me to do. If it keeps me here or brings you there, I'm all for it.”  
Gretten gave her that serious smile; it always made her heart pound, “That is what I want to hear, my little sweet roll.”  
Beth patted his hands, wishing she felt as confident as he looked.

 

“Sylvan, Moran, be sure to tie that headboard down tight now.” Sally called up to the two men standing in the bed of the wagon. She covered her mouth with her shawl again as she gazed about the dooryard and Helgi put her arm about Sally's shoulders.  
“You must not fret so, Sally.”  
“It is in her nature,” Ren chuckled, tugging on Sally's shawl, “She worried her last wrap so, I had to knit her another.”  
Sally swatted at Ren with tears in her eyes as they put their heads together, laughing.“Go on, woman, ye've put up with me worrying for nearly four seasons now. I would think ye'd be used to it.”   
“Ren are you certain I cannot convince you to come along as well. We've a large manor now with plenty of room.” Eidra took Ren's hand.  
“I am, that. I was born in Rialo. I have lived here all my life and 'tis here I will remain until I shut my eyes for the last time,” Ren kissed Eidra's palm, “I am strong. I have many years left in me yet.”  
“And ye would spend them alone?” Sally surveyed the old cottage, “I like not the thought of that.”  
“I will fare well. I was alone for many seasons after my husband passed on,” Ren waved at Sally, “I will visit come Jul if it suits you.”  
“If ye do not, I shall fetch ye meself,” Sally gathered Ren into a tight embrace, “Ye've kept me sanity all these seasons without Christopher.”  
“Your bed is tied down, Mistress Sally,” Sylvan called to her as he and Moran leaped to the ground.  
Eidra turned to Sally, “Well that is it, I suppose. Let us be off. I miss the children terribly.”  
Helgi pulled herself up into the front seat of the wagon, Sally struggled to climb up next until Moran scaled the steps, took her arm and hauled her up.  
Eidra sat down beside Sally and took the reins.  
“Are ye sure of this, Eidra?” Sally murmured as the wagon lurched forward.  
“It is too late to change your mind,” Helgi nudged her, “now hush and enjoy the ride.”  
Sally sighed, settled into the seat, “I miss Chris.”  
“As do we all,” Eidra conceded, “as do we all.”

 

“Mama is coming!” Astrid cried, hopping up and down at the window beside the front door. Ingrid signed to Edie who started to clap wildly along with Cait. Brynn was already stretching to reach the handle of the door.  
Ingrid put a finger to her lips, “Now you must let her inside the house before you overtake her.”  
Brenna came trotting down the stairs, “I heard the wagon. Cait run and fetch Eldred to help unload Sally's things.”  
“I want to see Mama!,” Cait whined but Brenna guided her to the door.  
“You expect Mama and Sally to do all the hard work? Fen is off with Papa, Colin is at the longhouses so we are short hands. You will see Mama after, now go.”  
Cait stuck out her tongue as she opened the door, slamming it shut behind her.  
“Impudent little troll!” Brenna called after her, caught Ingrid's grin, “What?”  
“Nothing,” Ingrid laughed, “Save the fact that you were more of a handful than Cait.”  
Brenna grabbed her wrap from the pegs by the door, “I was no such thing! I was a babe in arms compared to her.”  
Ingrid chuckled to herself as they headed outside to meet the wagon.

 

Eidra hugged Brenna tightly, “Oh, I missed you so.”  
“Mama, you have been gone but a day and some,” Brenna giggled as Astrid and Brynn clamored at Eidra's legs.  
“And does that mean you have not missed me in kind?” Eidra knelt down to gather the twins to her.  
“Mama, do not be so foolish. We have all of us missed you terribly. There is much to tell you..,”  
The front door opened again as Hal, Gretten and Beth stepped out of the manor.  
“Milady, 'tis good to see you home,” Gretten bowed, “I have planned a grand meal for this evening to welcome our guest,” he nodded to Sally who had let herself down from the wagon and now stood beside Helgi wringing her hands together.  
Hal had already moved to the wagon, starting to undo the ropes which held Sally's possessions in place.  
Eldred, raced into the dooryard followed by Cait who rushed to Eidra, “Mama! I am so happy you are back!”  
Eidra smiled at Brenna, kissing the top of Cait's head, “At least my brave girl seems to have pined for me.”  
As Hal and Eldred started to unload the wagon, Brenna pulled Eidra aside, no small task as the children kept running up to her, vying for her attention.  
“Mama, you will not believe what has happened. Yesterday at the longhouses, the portal...,” Brenna paused, searching for the word Tony had used, “Malfunctioned....most of the new people from Midgard had arrived save one woman. When she was prompted to pass through the portal, she vanished!”  
“Vanished?” Eidra lifted Astrid to her hip, “How?”  
Brenna shrugged, “They were frantic. They do not yet know what became of her. Whether she disappeared between realms or was destroyed entirely, they cannot say. Tony said if she was yet alive, she would have known just to press her marker and come back to the longhouse portal. Colin allowed as she was not as......quick... as the others, therefore she might not know how to return.”  
“Caught between realms,” Eidra put a hand to her mouth, “The poor woman!”  
“They have shut the portals off so they might find what is wrong with them but you have not heard the rest. I was there with Papa and Fen watching the Midgardians arrive and who should step out of the portal but Chase!”  
“What?!” Edira cried, “Your Chase?”  
“Mama! He is not my Chase any longer,” she bristled at the little flush of color that rushed to her cheeks, “he claims he was chosen by Tony to come here. He is an employee of Stark Industries now.”  
“He came here to see you again, the upstart,” Eidra smoothed Brenna's hair.  
Brenna was struck at how accurately her mother had called Chase's motives. She was also flattered that he'd done just what Eidra said yet it left her more confused than she'd ever been in her life.

 

Eidra felt the mattress sink beside her and she forced her eyes open to see Loki sitting there silhouetted in the light from the lantern on the nightstand, working his boots off. She reached up her hand to rub his back.  
“Did I wake you?”  
“It matters not whether you did,” she whispered, “I tried to stay awake.”  
Loki drew off his tunic, tossing it onto the dressing table chair, “I trust you settled Sally in with no trouble?”  
Eidra turned over onto her back, “She was terribly homesick though she was delighted to see the children. Loki, she could barely climb into the wagon this morn. I implored her to consider a walking stick but she is quite stubborn. By the time everyone retired for the evening, she was so sore she could hardly make the stairs, perhaps we should consider adding a room for her on the first floor.”  
“As you wish,” Loki extinguished the lantern and slid beneath the covers, drawing her close to him.  
“Brenna told me of the tragedy at the longhouse when I arrived home today.”  
She felt Loki stiffen against her, “Indeed.”  
“Is this what kept you so long away this eve?”  
Loki brought his hand to her face, caressing the features he knew better than his own. Her petite nose, gracefully arched eyebrows, tiny shell of an ear, the laugh lines at her eyes, “Among other incidents, yes. I was pressed to explain to Thor what had happened at the longhouse. I also made a tribute to the gods in honor of Fen's upcoming rite of passage and visited with Mother. She begged us to come en masse to see her. She wishes to see the children. She has been quite lonely since Odin's passing. Thor is taken up with his duties as King. Jane affords her some comfort but....”  
“But,” Eidra finished, putting her hand to his chest, “she pines for her favorite son.”  
“Bah,” Loki muttered though his tone was soft, “She pines for the little ones. Is it not every mother's hope for her children to bear her grandchildren?”  
Eidra bit her lip. The statement had brought to mind yet again what Brenna had told her, “She tells me furthermore that Chase has returned to Asgard?”  
“He has,” Loki grunted.  
“To work under Stark? Did you not say no....mutants..would be accepted into the exchange program?”  
She waited as he weighed his words.  
“It would seem Chase is a special case.”  
“Brenna spoke of him a goodly part of the day. I predict we shall have no end of trouble with the two of them,” she dropped her voice to a whisper, worried that Brenna would somehow hear her, “She is old enough now to make her own decisions. What can we do?”  
“Keep her busy? Let her visit Sophie on Midgard? Send her to the university as she wishes? Whatever it takes to keep her from straying off the path,” Loki nestled himself beneath her chin.  
“She is your daughter, mind you,” Eidra sighed, stroking the hair at his temple, “And look to what lengths you went for me.”  
“Hush,” he murmured, “The circumstances were entirely different..”  
 _"Though the outcome may be quite the same,"_ she thought to herself as she settled against him, bidding sleep to take her.


	36. 36

The barkeep rested his chin on a meaty fist as he watched the strange woman set up four tall steins along the ledge below the barrel of ale, turn the spigot, tilting each stein she filled in turn, spilling but a few drops as she went, setting them on the bar before him.  
The man picked up one of the steins and took a long draught, “Good head on't.”  
“She did say her skills were numerous.”  
“Raimon,” the barkeep leaned back upon his stool, “I am of a mind to wonder what skills you have had the pleasure of testing.”  
Raimon regarded him, a smile slithering onto his handsome face, “Bard, you cut me to the quick. I have far too many irons in the fire if you will.....”  
“Brazen whoreson,” Bard muttered, “And a liar to boot..”  
Eris stood, hands on her hips, watching the two men banter back and forth. The irony of being cast into the same environment she'd thought to escape from was not lost on her but in the very least it was familiar territory. After all, how hard was it to fill tankards with ale and cider? Plus she had the advantage of being a stranger in Asgard. Her past wasn't going to follow her from Midgard all the way here. The possibilities were endless if she could only keep up her act. She thought of the books lying in the pack at her feet and stepped a bit closer to it.  
“Well, have I passed the test?”   
“Mmm, can ya cook?”  
“Of course,” Eris laughed.  
If she was ever called to man the kitchen, she hoped they'd be happy with grilled cheese sandwiches and goulash. She gazed about the dark tavern. Did they even eat pasta in Asgard?  
“The cook's been spotty as of late....” Bard gave her the once over, “What else can ya do?”  
Eris's eyes flitted to Raimon who was staring boldfaced at her..maybe that talent was one ace she'd keep up her sleeve for the time being, still, she had other talents though she wasn't sure they'd translate very well here in Sherwood Forest.   
“She claims to be a talented dancer,” Raimon answered for her.  
“Dancer, eh?” Bard crossed his sweaty arms, “We've no call for fancy balls here at the Hammer and Serpent. Better off getting yourself to the palace...be a lady in waiting for the Midgardian Queen..”  
Eris scanned the room, “I've got to have music to dance with...” she spied a tall broom leaning in one corner and sighed. It wasn't the first time she'd had to improvise.  
“I told ya, we haven't the need for...” Bard's words trailed off as she grabbed the broom and stood before him.  
“I'm not that kind of dancer but I can't show you a damn thing unless I have music.”  
Bard raised a shaggy eyebrow and looked at Raimon who nodded.  
“Fish!” Bard bellowed, “Come out here! Bring your fiddle mind ya!”  
A skinny young man with a sorry complexion and messy blond hair tied into a ponytail poked his head through the doorway at the opposite end of the bar. He was dressed in a dirty tunic and breeches covered with an even dirtier apron. His blue eyes were rimmed with red and a worrisome cold sore had taken residence in one corner of his mouth.  
“I've only just finished with the roast, sir.”  
“Get your damnable fiddle, boy. Hel and be damned with the roast. It'll keep!” Bard waved him from the kitchen.  
Fish disappeared into the kitchen, emerging seconds later with a fiddle under his arm. It looked to be the finest item in the whole establishment. He glared at Eris as he passed her to stand before Bard.  
“A fine time to entertain guests in the middle of the day,” Fish grumbled as he shouldered the fiddle, “What would you have me play, oh master?”  
The biting sarcasm was not lost on Eris or Bard as he brought a hand up to cuff the young man in the back of the head.  
“Shut your hole. Woman, what tune do you need?”  
Shit. She was pretty sure they didn't know any of the music that sprang to her mind.   
“Uh....something....hot,” no that wasn't the word, “something....sultry, slow.”  
Bard gave Fish a shove, “Well, you heard the woman?”  
“I don't ken...”  
“Boy,” Raimon reached around Bard and tugged at Fish's sleeve, “play the Sword dance.”  
Fish started to play a rousing tune, not as slow as she would have liked but she could adapt. She began to put the broom through its paces, running it between her legs, twisting, turning about, leaning up to Bard, twirling around, trying her best to keep time with the music. She stole a look at the men as she made love to the oaken handle and smiled as she caught a glimpse of three men, their mouths gaping open. It was a wonder Fish could keep the tune alive, so entranced did he seem by her movements until Bard started to clap his hands, joined soon enough by Raimon. As the tune ended, she knelt at their feet with a flourish.  
“Woman,” Bard dropped his hand and with an involuntary shiver, she took it. He pulled her to stand, “Why did ya not say you were an entertainer?”  
“I thought I had,” Eris turned to Raimon who was nodding at Bard and jabbing a thumb in the direction of the kitchen.  
“Wait here,” Bard called to her over his shoulder, “I won't be long.... Fish!”  
Fish jumped, tearing his gaze from Eris to lope along behind the other two men and she was left alone in the dark tavern. With a smile, she dissolved into transparency, tiptoeing to the kitchen doorway to listen in on Bard and Raimon.  
“What more do you wish from her? She can tend bar, serve, cook, entertain...and in more ways than one, I assure you my friend.”  
She stuck up her middle finger at Raimon. Men were indeed the same no matter where you went. They couldn't keep a good thing to themselves, they had to brag. It was inevitable.  
“And so what do ya want for her?”  
Want for her? Raimon was trafficking her like a damn pimp, the sneaky bastard. She thought to find the entire realm made up of rednecks and ignorant rubes, instead the reality was the polar opposite. There were scumbags and users, lechers and whores, the same cast of players only dressed as if they'd just walked out of a theater rehearsal for Henry the IV...she'd lived with this scenario more than half her life.  
“I would say she was worth a hundred coin if she was worth fifty.”  
Eris wanted to toss a tankard at their heads.  
“What do ya take me for? The King? A hundred coin, bah! For such a price she will remain your problem.” Bard leaned over the roast, prising a piece of meat from one side and popping it in his mouth.  
“I told you. I have more than I can handle at home. She is lovely, versatile, fiery. Men would come a good distance to see her, especially were she to dance for them. What say you to a fair price then?”  
Bard eyed Fish, then Raimon, “Fifty, say?”  
“Seventy-five.”  
“Preposterous, Fifty-five..”  
“Sixty-five.”  
“Sixty and not a coin more will pass from this hand to yours.”  
Eris watched Raimon's face, wearing the mien of a practiced gambler as Bard gave him the answer he'd been waiting for.  
“Done.” Raimon put out his hand and Bard pumped it once.  
“Let me fetch the coins for ya.” Bard trudged across the kitchen to a wide hutch.  
By the time they re-entered the tavern, Eris was sitting atop the bar, her legs wrapped around the broom handle .  
“Am I gainfully employed?”  
“You will receive room and board for now. After ya work off your price, we will negotiate a wage.” Bard waved her down from the bar.  
 _"Trust me, I won't be here long enough to work off shit,"_ she thought to herself.  
“Very well. When do I start working?”  
Bard grinned, “Ya might start by using that there broom for something 'sides a dancing partner.”  
Eris returned the smile. _Nope, not long at all._

 

“So you're saying the girl might not have disappeared into thin air, then?” Tony mumbled, his head upon his arms atop his desk.  
“N..no..well yes but.......,”  
“Simon, you've got to get that stutter fixed. Gain some traction..”  
Simon scowled at Tony, repressed the urge to kick the desk, “Alright, when each member of the group comes through, their markers are activated, we then enter the codes into them and create a tracking profile so we can find them if they become lost...,”  
“Or sneak off,” Tony peered over his arm at Simon.  
“Right, sneak off....you know, I wasn't trying to sneak off, I was simply paying a visit to Vargas. It's not as if I wasn't going to come back....I mean..,”  
“Jesus, Simon, get to the point.” Tony sat back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling.  
Simon closed his eyes, took a deep breath, “We can't enter the codes for the trackers without the bands but we can see if the markers were activated....and hers was activated so for a brief moment, she was indeed here in Asgard.”  
“Then where did she go?”  
Simon rubbed his eyes, “If I knew that, we wouldn't be having this conversation would we.”  
Tony stood up, walked around the desk to the windows looking out into the longhouse, “Why didn't you design the markers to track them as soon as they crossed over?”  
Simon joined him at the window, “If you recall, we considered it until your....until Miss Potts test run. That marker was indeed set to track her movements but when she came through the portal, the energy surge scrambled the data, rendering the tracker useless. I consider, in the future, having them receive the markers here in Asgard so they will be set and ready to go.”  
Tony snorted, put a hand to the glass, “If the project has a future. This is a pretty big glitch. They might scrap the whole thing as a bad idea.”  
Simon glanced at Tony's reflection, “That doesn't sound like you. I mean, no back up plan? Just throw in the towel?”  
They watched the technicians trudge up and down the walkway to the portal base, writing on their tablets, staring at the hologram floating above their heads.  
“Let's face it. In the end, maybe failure would be for the best. We don't belong here. The more people they send, the more they're gonna corrupt the simplicity of this place.”  
Simon backed away from the windows, “You're probably right. If we put these portals back online and get them running smoothly, what's to stop the powers that be from sending in a permanent armed presence.”  
Tony's mouth twisted in a half smile, “I can't put anything past you, can I?”  
“It's nothing that wasn't right in front of me in the first place,” Simon sighed.  
A couple nights past. He'd been combing through the data from the day the portal malfunctioned for what must have been the hundredth time when he'd come upon a file marked “Portal Phase II”. He'd clicked on it, figuring the information couldn't very well be classified over his level otherwise he wouldn't be able to access the file.  
“I mean a portal 6 meters high by 12 meters wide? That's big enough to put a tank through...or a small aircraft...I may be a bit player...”  
“You're more than..”  
“Hear me out,” Simon held up his hand, “I'm not stupid, Tony. I've not the clearance for all the details like you do but I'm well aware how little science and the spirit of exploration figure into this venture...” Simon looked out the window at the portal, “And I shudder at the implications.”  
“So why stay? Why not call it a day and go back to Midgard?” Tony walked back to his desk, sitting down on top of it.  
“Because when I start something, I see it through” he turned to Tony.  
“Even if this was a simple anomaly and we start the portal up again,” Tony stood up, gesturing to the windows, “We'll have to find a volunteer willing to risk being transported out of existence.”  
“I'll do it.”  
Tony stumbled forward, twisting about in a drunken ballet, “Ah, remember the part about not being a bit player? I meant it. You're an important actor in this Norse tragedy...if we lose you, we lose more than just a physicist...”  
“I have complete confidence in my work,” Simon ran his fingers through his hair. He was exhausted, physically and mentally, “And you need something positive to tell your Director Fury so I'll be out there running down the start-up sequence whenever you're ready.”  
Simon closed Tony's office door, jaw set. He actually felt good. He'd opened his mouth and spoken his mind. It was invigorating and after all, he was tired of waiting for nothing to happen, enough was enough.

 

Chase stuffed his hands in his pockets. He would fidget when he was nervous and that was last thing he wanted Colin to see.   
“But why didn't you tell me you'd been here before, fer fuck sake? Hell you might could have helped me a bit.”  
“Mister Stark told me to keep my previous visits to myself. He didn't say tell no one except Agent Denehy so I was doing what I was told.”   
A couple of technicians nearby would look over at them from time to time, smiling as they whispered to each other. Chase wanted to knock their heads together.  
“Shouldn't we go outside to talk, Mister Denehy?” Chase glared at the technicians, “Somewhere a bit more private?”  
“I've got this..,” Colin held up his hand, cocked his thumb at the technician who'd had the misfortune at the moment to be looking at them, “You two, fuck off!”  
Chase turned away to stifle a laugh as the technician's mouth dropped open. He set the tablet in his hand down on the table before him as the other tech led him toward the outside door.  
To Chase's relief, when he looked at Colin again, he was smiling.   
“Nosy shits. Now...,” Colin's smile faded, “You were...involved... with Brenna in the past. Am I gonna need to sit on you in the future?”  
Chase stared at Colin, unblinking, “Yes sir. I can say without a doubt it's entirely possible.”  
Colin ran his fingers through his hair, “Well thanks for the heads up, I suppose. At the very least I'll know who to finger when things go south.”  
The slam of a door across the longhouse made them both turn around. Simon was striding toward the portal, his lips set in a thin line.  
“Trouble in paradise?” Colin mused.  
Simon walked up to the mainframe computer, leaned over and started tapping the screen.  
The cubes sitting across the top of the portal base leaped into the air as a loud hum filled the longhouse.  
“What the fuck is he doing?” Colin started across the room toward Simon, Chase following suit.  
Simon bent over to the lock box sitting below the table, punched the code into the keypad on the cover, and took out a marker band, fastening it to his wrist. As he stood up, he heard Colin shout to him.  
“Simon! What's going on?”  
Simon started up the ramp to the portal as Tony's voice echoed through the longhouse.  
“Damnit Foster! Stop!”  
Simon had nearly reached the base. Through the circle created by the cubes, he could see two young agents, a man and a woman staring back at him. One of them had her hand to her ear, no doubt calling for her supervisor or some other stuffed shirt. He slowed his gait. What if they took him off the project? If he didn't prove that the portals were safe, the project might be scrapped altogether. Then again, he wasn't so sure he wanted to be known as the Midgardian who'd helped settle Asgard. God he missed his house, with the little backyard, yet something had been stirred in him, meeting Vargas and his family. He had thought of asking Tony's permission to visit Harmand. If everything Harmand said was true, he'd be a fool to miss an opportunity to explore his heritage.  
He stopped at the entrance to the portal as he felt steps vibrate the ramp.   
“I'll be fine.” Simon muttered to himself as he stepped though.

“Goddamn it! Stark what the hell is going on!” Colin yelled as Simon disappeared through the portal, the cubes dropping to the base with an ear shattering clang feet in front of Tony. He turned and raced back down the ramp to the mainframe computers.  
“Sonofabitch. I'll never hear the end of this,” he jabbed a finger at the screen, resetting the portal, the cubes flying back into the air as Colin reached him.  
“Yer not done testing the portal yet are you? I wasn't made aware of it.”   
Tony shook his head, adjusting the marker on his wrist, “If I find Simon on the other side, I guess we won't need to test it will we.”   
Tony trotted up the ramp, Colin right behind him.  
“Yer not going through the portal are you?” Colin called after him, “Stark?”  
Tony summarily ignored Colin as he reached the base, prepared to walk straight through the portal without stopping when Simon re-emerged followed closely by Agent Coulson.  
“Mister Stark,” Phil eyed him, “Did you lose something?”  
“Agent Coulson, what a pleasant surprise. Welcome to Asgard,” Tony crooked a finger at Simon, “Well done, Foster. I'd say the test phase is complete, wouldn't you?”  
Tony watched Coulson glance around the longhouse, pretty sure it was the only time he'd ever seen the agent visibly rattled.  
“Don't worry,” Tony gestured around them, “Destructo is miles from here.”  
Agent Coulson frowned, regaining his composure, “Before I return to Earth, I'd like to have all the facts straight for Director Fury, I'm sure you understand,” Coulson nodded to Colin, “Agent Denehy, I'd like an incident report from your end as well. Now shall we step into your office, Mister Stark? I have a busy schedule.”  
Colin felt his stomach turn. He hated being dressed down. He nodded to Chase as they walked down the ramp. He was going to lock his bedchamber door and drown himself in a jug of hard cider when he returned to the manor that evening and damn to hell anyone who disturbed him until the next morning.

 

_Assignment: 64379-01  
Location: Asgard_

_Agent: Colin M. Denehy  
Date: 9/12/29_

_There's nothing quite like the smell of baking bread to calm one's nerves. Of course were that the case I should live in a bakery. Taking a break from my final report on the portal malfunction, I wandered down to the kitchen to clear my head with a mug of Gretten's mulled cider which I confess I've become a bit addicted to. He won't tell me his secret and I can't blame him. I've no head for figuring out recipes anyhow. Beth seems a bit more relaxed around me. She's sitting across the table from me as I write, nose deep in her own tablet, trying to finish the section in her thesis, ironically enough, on baking bread in a wood fired brick oven.  
Her present comfortable state, I'm sure, stems from our latest chat after I walked in on her and Gretten canoodling in the kitchen of what they thought was an empty house. My attitude was far different from the last time we discussed such matters. I'm pretty sure it stems from a change of heart on my part. I only warned her she would be on her own if she was caught by anyone else and she agreed wholeheartedly. She seemed to want to say more, however. Maybe if I can catch her alone, she might come clean about whatever's on her mind.  
As anyone who's lost a loved one will tell you, 'tis a sad fact that life moves on despite tragedy. So it is here as well. Eidra's friend Sally has settled in much to Helgi's delight as they were thick as thieves when the family lived together in Rialo. Plus they're close in age. Watching them move about the manor, I speculated that they were happy having each other to lean on as they walked. Helgi gave me a good natured smack on the bottom for my smart remark, well deserved. Brenna, cautiously optimistic, has begun to make plans again for her visit with her school mate, Sophie. This is, of course, only if she can drag herself away from Asgard. Last evening, I heard the front door open and close. It must have been at least eleven by the clock on my tablet. A couple hours later, I awoke to the same and lay there in bed listening for footsteps to start up the stairs. Finally my curiosity got the best of me. I stood with my ear to my door, hearing loud whispers echoing in the foyer though I couldn't tell whose voices they were at first. Then the stairs creaked, the voices continuing until I was able to discern it was Brenna and Eidra in the hallway. They were in the middle of a heated discussion though I couldn't make out individual words. Brenna wouldn't say anything this morning about what happened even when I asked if she slept well. If I had to put money on it, I'd wager she been at the Longhouses. I don't know but her and Chase are going to keep me up a night or two to be sure.  
The little ones are thriving, as if they ever stopped. Innocence is a blessing to the young. They had no idea anything out of the ordinary had happened. Maybe they saw Da acting a bit distracted for a day or two. Likely it would have been chalked up to his duties at the palace. Brynn had another bout. Third one this month. Eidra claims it's the change of seasons does it to him. I've no doubt she's right. Still it worries us all as it takes the poor lad a time to respond to his treatment. I'm considering talking to her about bringing him to Midgard for more tests. I think Loki will be more tractable to suggestion this time around. With each consecutive attack, he grows more concerned.  
Edie continues with her signing of course. Even Cait and the twins have become proficient with a good many words. It's rather odd to see them sit there signing in total silence without their normal chatter.   
Ingrid's of a mind to think she might be pregnant again but she can't say for sure. I told her she could get tested at the Longhouses with the camp physician but she refused, preferring to let nature tell her in it's own time. Gunnar, having recently turned fifteen seasons, has now started going to the palace with Silas. He will train to be a royal guard like his father. Fen is beside himself with this development. It leaves him rather alone in the household. Gunnar being his best, closest friend was at the manor every day. At least the preparations for Fen's rite of passage coming up next week have taken up a lot of his attention, paired with the usual lessons for the day. He has expressed to me a desire to follow Gunnar into the royal guards. I didn't have the heart to tell him I wasn't so sure a prince would be allowed to be anything but a prince here in Asgard. Course then again, Their Majesties, the Princes William and Harry back on Earth were allowed to serve in Her Majesty's royal corps so anything is possible though I told him to keep his desire to himself for the time being.   
The Master and Mistress are as well as can be expected what with running a household. I was honored the day before yesterday when I came back from my daily visit to the Longhouses. Upon entering the manor, I found a strange man in the sitting room visiting with Loki and Eidra. I excused myself for the intrusion and was about to head upstairs to afford them privacy when Loki called me over, introducing the short, pompous looking elderly man reclining in the chair beside him.   
“Colin, this is Syngen, royal portraitist. The King has commissioned for me two family portraits, one for the manor and one to hang in the palace. I have in turn, commissioned from Syngen four miniatures. Two of yourself and two of Miss Chapel. I will retain one of each for my house, you and Miss Chapel may have yours to keep.”  
Needless to say, I was overcome with emotion though I'll say it anyway. We've gotten so far away from the old days on Earth, we scarce recall a time when a painted portrait was a cherished family heirloom. Such is the way it is here on Asgard. To have a portrait of a guest commissioned by the family is the equivalent of being given your own personal house key. I thanked him profusely for the gift of course. Eidra stood, kissed me on the cheek, gave me a great hug as she murmured in my ear, “Colin, you and Beth are one of us now. We could not exclude you.” It's hard to believe we've become so tight after almost four months. Then again, a lot has happened and don't sharing in hardships and happiness bring a family closer together?  
Jesus, I get weepy just thinking about it. Beth and myself will sit for Syngen the week after Fen's rite.  
Now of course for the painful part. Eris Carter's disappearance has been ruled an accidental death or in the very least a missing person since we have not been able to locate her. I think it's a load of shite. Yes they practically took the machine apart and put it back together again but I wonder if we're doing the right thing, ripping apart the fabric of space to take a jaunt to another dimension.  
We did discover the portal still works thanks to an unplanned test by our own Simon Foster. He was determined to be suffering from a slight case of PTSD brought on by the accident itself per Agent Coulson's diagnosis, not the camp physician. It was quite the scene in Tony's office. Simon was a hair's breadth away from being sent back to Midgard for a little R &R when he broke down, begging them to allow him to stay in camp instead. I for one was shocked seeing as he was always talking about getting back home to his cozy cottage. I would have thought he'd be fairly weeping with joy instead. Wait, strike that. Asgard has had a profound effect on us all, myself included. The longer we stay, the more we yearn to remain. Not a good situation because as I've said a dozen times if I've said it once, we will have to return to Earth. When we signed up, we knew it would be a round trip. I can indeed understand Simon's present state of mind though I know fuck all what to do about it. So, he's been given a bit of time off. Sent to his tent under the camp physician's care. I'm hoping he'll recover quickly, hell I'm hoping he'll recover.  
So, missing persons. Tell me, are you a missing person if there's no one to miss you? I've read Miss Carter's file from cover to cover, at least what information she was willing to give them. In and out of foster homes since she was removed from her birth parents at nine years of age, she'd not even given their names though Home Office had found the info. Both parents were dead, the mother from a cocaine overdose not long after Eris was removed, the father a couple years later shot to death after a bad drug deal. She had been sharing an apartment in Boston with a colleague, and I use that term loosely, from the men's club where they worked. It was a wonder she'd been picked for this assignment in the first place unless she was just one more part of the great experiment. She was certainly a candidate. I'm still all for thinking they put names in a hat. For whatever reason, it's a little late to hash over the why's and wherefores. She's either dead or in limbo and thanks partly to Simon, partly to Fury, the portal project is back online, to continue as planned. Stupid me, when I spoke to Fury, I questioned the safety of continuing to use the portals after such a catastrophe. His response?   
“Agent Denehy. Do you know just how many people have died in violent car accidents TO date? And do you know how many vehicles of all sizes and shapes are on the road and in the air today? Now what do you think would have happened if after the first car accident, Mister Ford had thrown his hands in the air and said, “That's it, hitch the horses back up to the wagon. This is a bad idea.”?”  
I answered him. Can you believe it? I said, “Well we'd have a fecking load of oil we wouldn't know what to do with....and pollution wouldn't be ruining the atmosphere.”  
Not what he wanted to hear. I got his point, mind you. I just didn't like it shoved down my throat. And this is where we stand.   
Oh, and I've grown a bit of muscle so when I stand around the bonfire in the all together at Fen's celebration, I won't look so much like a bleeding scarecrow.   
And there goes our peace and quiet. The children have come inside again to warm themselves. The weather is turning colder. Loki says they often see snow by the first of November. Of course I couldn't snag an assignment on the equator. Astrid is climbing my leg like a jungle gym so I'll sign off. Plenty of time to finish when the children head to bed..._

 

Lelia shifted about on the cushions of the divan, reached for the needle she'd poked halfway through the shoulder of the dress she was sewing and gave a yelp as she pricked her finger yet again.  
She let the dress slide to the floor, giving it a kick for good measure. Trena, reclining at the other end of the divan, chuckled.  
“Whatever did the dress do to you, dear?”  
“I can't keep hold of the fabric,” Lelia grunted, “'tis too slippery.”  
“Almost as slippery as the thoughts running through your skull right this minute....” Trena shoved at her with the toe of her slipper, “Ohh, there goes another one...”  
At any other time, Lelia would tolerate her aunt's teasing but now she jumped from the divan to stand before the fire, “Please, Aunty. Not today. I've not the head for it.”  
Trena felt for the edge of the divan, pushing herself to stand, “And well I know this. Methinks I should be the one to guide you, as lost as you seem.”  
“Guide me?”  
“Yes indeed,” Trena groped for Lelia's elbow, found it, “Blind though I may be, I need no eyes to see what troubles you." Trena chuckled, herding Lelia away from the fireplace to the chamber door but Lelia shrugged her off.   
"How do ye know what troubles me when I've not the slightest clue?"  
Trena rolled her sightless eyes to the ceiling, "Perhaps you would do well to distract your mind with something. Take yourself to the palace archives, find a tome or two..."  
Lelia shook her head,"I don't see how it would do me any good. Besides, 'tis nearly time for the evening meal.."  
Trena found the curved iron  handle, swinging the door open, "Have I lost the ability to feed myself now? Go on with you. Clear your head."  
As the door swung shut behind her, Lelia stood in the hallway, her arms crossed. If she returned inside, her aunt would only usher her back out of their apartments. What did Trena expect her to find in the archives in the first place? She gave a resigned sigh and started off down the corridor.

The archives were bustling, albeit quietly, with activity. Lelia nodded to Kronas, the head clerk, a slight tall man with blond curly hair, sitting at a large ornate desk just inside the arched doorway, a great book open before him.   
"Lelia?" He whispered, "might I help you find something?"  
"Ye could ere I knew what I was looking for. No thankee, Kronas."  
He smiled politely, returning his attention to his book, "Very well, I shall be here if you need me."  
Lelia scanned the cavernous room, the bookshelves, three stories high, filled with, scrolls, tomes, parchments. Tall arched windows flooded the space with golden light from the setting sun. Men, women with their brood perused the shelves, strolling the walkways suspended high above the long tables filled with scholars and students.  
One table was particularly busy. Mr. Mindel, one of the Midgardians who had come with the most recent group was surrounded by a number of men, some of them, she recognized as high council members. When she failed to move from her spot before the desk, Kronas cleared his throat, setting his hands atop the book, "Are you certain I cannot help you find something?"  
"Truly, no. I've not a clue what I'm looking for."  
Kronas fingered a corner of one page, "The newest edition of "Ona's Travels" has been delivered. Very popular. I do have a copy. I would suggest "The Innkeepers Daughters" but," he looked her over, "you are a bit young for that one...quite saucy.."  
Lelia put her hand up, "Aunt Trena sent me here. I've not a clue what she expected me to find."  
Kronas frowned, tilting his head, "She seldom does things without good reason."  
Lelia glanced at the book he was reading, "What have ye there?"  
"Oh this?" He patted the page, "Treasures of the Nine Realms. Fascinating. It tells of the King's war hammer, the Horn of Wisdom in Vanaheim, the pyramids of Midgard and so much more. Quite well written I must say."  
Lelia blinked once, twice. "Have ye a tome on the history of Asgard?"  
Kronas rose from his chair with a smile, "Which one would you like? We have an extensive collection."  
"Just show me where to go. I can carry on from there."  
His eyes traveling about the library as he climbed, Kronas led her up a spiral staircase to the second level walkway, along the shelves, stopping at a point less than midway to the other end of the vast athenaeum.  
"You will find a comprehensive selection on Asgard, its folklore, legends, cultural studies..."  
Lelia felt Kronas staring at her as she mulled the categories over in her head. Cultural studies, folklore...legends....  
"Legends ye say?"  
Kronas had been studying the spine of a large red leather covered tome, now he turned to her, "Indeed. Let me show you. 'Tis a good place to start."  
Moments later, Lelia was seated at one of the long tables, a couple heavy books at her elbow, one titled "Tales of the Nine Realms: The Folklore and History behind Asgard's Reliquary" opened before her. A couple tables distant, Mister Mindel was trying to teach some strange sounding words to the men gathered around him. She listened to the harsh inflections, the lilting, almost sing song tone as she turned page after page until at last she found what she was looking for. She rested her chin on her fist then and began to read.


	37. 37

Colin rubbed his hands together as he made his way up the path to the manor. It felt cold enough to snow. If it was this rough in September, he shuddered to think of what it would be like in the dead of winter. Warm light streamed through the windows, slicing the brown grass in golden stripes.  
"Probably missed the evening meal, fuck it all," he grumbled as he let himself into the foyer. The lingering sea salty aroma of fish soup hung heavy in the air, accompanied by the sweet yeast of fresh bread. He walked through the sitting room into the dining room where he spied Loki at the table, some number of baskets and small bowls arranged before him. He looked up at Colin.  
"I was about to head for the longhouses to see what was keeping you," Loki gestured to the chair opposite him, "Do take a seat. Doubtless you did not dine at the encampment."  
"Ah no I did not. Stark was taking his sweet time with the weekly report. You know how he gets on about things. You can't shut the man up fer nothing lately. I swear he's going mad!"  
Loki craned his head around his chair to call into the kitchen, "Vesta! Bring Master Denehy a bowl of soup and some bread and cider."  
"Oh, I don't want to trouble her none.." Colin started but Loki merely shook his head.  
"You cannot expect to sleep on an empty stomach now can you? Besides I am curious as to your opinion...Miss Chapel made the soup tonight."  
Colin heard the clink of pewter, the thunk of a ladle against the side of a kettle, “Did she now? And what was yer opinion of it?”  
Loki smiled, “Methinks she used Gretten's recipe. 'Twas quite good.”  
Vesta emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray upon which sat a wooden bowl, a pewter mug and a stack of sliced bread.  
“Thank you,” Colin nodded to her as she placed the tray on the table before him. He spooned up a bit of the soup, blowing on it to cool it off. Across the table, Loki took some dried berries from one of the baskets and dropped them into one of the small bowls. Then taking a wooden pestle, he began to crush them with a slow grinding motion.  
Colin tilted his head toward the bowls, “You mind telling me what yer up to there?”  
Vesta smiled behind her hand as Loki chuckled, “Two days hence, we shall watch my son become a man. To pay homage to the wonder which is the cycle of life, the joy of rebirth, we will paint ourselves with the colors of nature. We add water to the crushed berries, ground leaves, clay ...”  
Colin took another spoonful of the soup. It was in fact quite good. From the corner of his eye, he saw Beth peering around the kitchen doorway watching him eat. He winked at her and she broke into a wide grin.  
“Paint ourselves eh? Here's hoping it will hide a multitude of sins.”  
Loki arched an eyebrow, “Explain..,”  
Colin sat back in the chair, curled his arms across his stomach and puffed out his chest, “This is me best pose. I've never been able to pack on much muscle or mass, always been a scrawny little git. I've not exactly the body of a God as we say on Midgard, begging yer pardon. Yer brother is a prime example,” Colin waved the spoon at him, “And yerself as well. Come the night after next, yer kin will be standing there in the altogether looking like a page out of GQ's Best Bodies issue and right smack in the middle, painted in earthy tones, sporting the physique of a wet rooster will be yers truly.”  
Loki clapped his hands together, roaring with laughter, “Colin, you are genuinely possessed of a fine wit. Do not fret. We gods, as your people call us, are not perfect. You will see..”  
Colin heard footsteps in the sitting room behind him. A moment later, Eidra appeared at his side, gliding around the table until she was standing behind Loki. She put her arms around his neck, resting her chin upon his shoulder as he closed his eyes, the picture of complete contentment leaving Colin to feel a bit like a voyeur at witnessing such a private moment.  
"It has been well over three seasons since Fen has asked me to read to him before bed. I thought he was asleep when I checked on him but he was sitting on his bed holding one of his wooden animals, the elephant I believe."  
Loki turned his head, planted a tender kiss on her cheek, "He is of a mind he will lose all the privileges of being a child after his passage. He will no longer have his mother's tender bosom to lay his head upon."  
Eidra stood up straight, her hands upon his arms, "Nonsense, if e'er he needs a mother's love he shall have it...," she kissed the top of Loki's head, "you shall simply have to share me."  
Loki gave her a mock pout as she rolled her eyes, "And you already receive a goodly portion."  
"I am most covetous of your attention. You must forgive me, my heart."  
At this she leaned down to whisper in his ear, bringing a lopsided smile to his face. She then stood and nodded to Colin, "I see you have made quick work of the soup. We missed you at the evening meal."  
Colin sat back in the chair, "Ah, work kept me overlong. Beth is a fine cook."  
"Indeed," Eidra cast a glance toward the kitchen, "I am going to retire, my love. Will you be along soon?"  
Loki took another handful of berries, sprinkling them in the bowl, "Yes, I must be up early for I am expected at the palace. The King wishes to discuss the upcoming feast for Mabon though I hardly know why. He keeps most everything the same season after season."  
Eidra  nodded, "And still you will humor him."  
Loki said nothing though his eyes stole to hers.  
"I bid you good evening, Colin."  
"Milady."   
Eidra waved at him as she passed by and was soon swallowed up by the darkness of the sitting room.  
Colin looked across at Loki to see the ghost of a smile upon his lips.  
"You two have something special, don't you." Feeling a sudden urge, Colin pushed the tray away from him and reached down beside his chair, retrieving his pad from the depths of his pack. As Loki spoke, Colin began to draw the scene before him.  
"I was given the gift of a second chance, to redeem myself with the love of my life. Second chances are exceedingly rare. The bond between us runs deeper than our very souls. Without her," he paused, gazing about the room, " without all this, my family, friends, my life would be forfeit. I would sacrifice all to protect them."  
He had paused in his task, the strength of his conviction written clearly upon his face. Now he tapped the pestle upon the rim of the bowl to shake the powder loose, "love is the most powerful spell there is. It has the ability to overcome an army,  give courage to the weak, bring the mightiest warrior to his knees. It transcends death itself. When you have been blessed, " here he grinned, "or cursed thus such as the case may be, you will see."  
Colin held up his hands, "I told you, my career is my mistress. I've not the time for such serious pursuits."  
"So you have!" Loki replied softly, "perhaps someday you shall find that one woman which shall blind you to all others."  
The front door opened, shut with a dull click as they exchanged glances. At the creak of footsteps ascending the stairs, Loki called out, “Brenna...”  
The footsteps paused and at first Colin expected them to continue on up to the second floor but a moment later, Brenna appeared in the dining room archway.  
“I did not think anyone would be awake.”  
“Hoped is a more accurate word,” Loki stood, taking a couple of bowls in his hands, “ 'Tis past dark and more. Your mother called for you at the evening meal. You are fortunate she is not as strict as I am. Had it been up to me, I would have been out looking for you.”  
Brenna's face was crimson by now and Colin knew exactly where she'd been, felt a twinge of jealousy as she frowned, “Papa, I am nearly twenty-one seasons. Mama was pregnant with me at my age. Can I not come and go as I please?”  
“You are not long turned twenty, I hardly think the word nearly is accurate,” Loki walked to a tall cabinet tucked into one corner of the dining hall and opened the doors, setting the bowls inside on a shelf, “You still live here under my roof do you not? That you are old enough to handle your own.....affairs....I have no doubt but can you not have a measure of respect for your mother? If you are not home by nightfall, she worries incessantly, Fen asks questions...”  
“Papa, Fen is no fool and I told Mama I might be late to the evening meal...”  
Despite her protests, he continued on, “And you are correct. You are old enough to come and go as you may but I will not tolerate you upsetting the household. If you intend to continue with your nocturnal jaunts without telling us of your whereabouts, I will have little recourse but to impose a curfew.”  
“Truly?”   
Colin shook his head, turned to look at her and she seemed to pale a bit, “Oh very well. I shall tell Mama I am home.”  
She whirled about, started out of the room but Loki called to her, his tone softened a bit, and she paused,  
“Brenna, I realize I have kept you from visiting your friends on Midgard for far longer than you wished. I know this vexes you. Would you be more tractable were I to tell you that you might leave three days hence?”  
Brenna turned about to stare at Loki as Colin tapped his chin. Loki was no different than any parent trying to please his children that they be pleased with him in kind.   
“For how long?”  
Loki shrugged, “Would four days suffice? You could be home for Mabon.”  
“ 'Tis a deal!” she cried, running to him and wrapping her arms around his neck, “Thank you, Papa. I promise I shall tell Mama where I am off to next time!”  
She rushed from the room, her footsteps pounding up the stairs.  
Loki stared at the archway for a long time until Colin tapped his fingers on the table, “And you think it'll keep her from her goal?”  
Loki's eyes glided to his though he seemed to be in another world, “I am no fool. I merely hope to stay her hand for as long as possible. Perhaps she will visit her friend, find she misses that unbearably brutal realm and decide to continue her schooling as she has planned,” he picked up the remaining few bowls from the table, “Or I shall have to find another course of action.”  
“As long as it doesn't involve murdering the poor lad, we're all good.” Colin stood up, stretched, “I don't envy you yer dilemma, me friend.”  
Loki gave him a wry smile as he set the bowls into the cabinet and closed the doors, “And well you should not. All this time you have spent with us I have sought to convince you of the merits of finding a good woman. Perhaps, being single, you are the wiser for you do not suffer a half of the tribulations.”  
Colin pushed in his chair, “Now I never said I'd not the need for a woman or the yearn for a family..I am simply committed to me work at the present..,”  
Loki walked to his chair, set his hands upon the backrest, “Though I admire your commitment, do not let time run away from you, my friend.”  
“Some of us are not meant to to be blessed as yerself..,” Colin shrugged, “I've a few good years left in me anyhow. I'll get around to it.”

 

Brenna heard footsteps coming through the sitting room and continued swiftly, silently up the stairs. She didn't need to overhear her father's conversation with Colin to know he was only allowing her to visit Sophie at last because he knew where she had been stealing away to these last few evenings. Still it was a bit disconcerting to realize as quiet and stealthy as she thought she'd been, her father was ever more vigilant. She ducked into her bedchamber as her father's foot hit the bottom stair, listening as the two men passed her door, chatting in hushed tones. First one door, then the other clicked shut. With a groan, she flopped across her bed to stare at the light patterns from the lantern on her dressing table dance about the ceiling.  
The first night she'd slipped away to the encampment to talk to Chase, she'd been sure she wouldn't be missed. She'd encountered Hal on his way to his own cottage when she'd returned later that evening but since nothing was ever said to her, she assumed he'd kept the meeting to himself. The second night, she'd been able to come and go without being caught. She'd excused herself from the evening meal claiming she was going to retire to her bedchamber to read.   
Tonight, however, she'd taken off with not the least concern about being found out, damn Chase. As much as she hated to admit it, he was managing to do exactly what he'd told her he'd set out to do. He was weaseling his way back into her heart, her mind...not that she wasn't making it easy for him. As soon as she'd seen him walk down that ramp in the longhouse, a flood of old memories had overtaken her, making her pulse to race, even as mad as she'd been and when he'd begged her to come see him at the encampment before they'd parted ways, she knew she was going to do just as he asked despite the fact she'd laughed in his face at the time. She missed her friend Sophie terribly, however, and so she would most definitely visit her as she'd promised. She would fill out the paperwork to start her secondary education on Midgard come spring as well but beyond this, with Chase now back in her life, she felt, once again, as if she were walking a tall fence, unsure as to what camp she would land in if she fell.

 

“ERIS!”   
Even at full volume, Bard's voice barely cut through the din of the raucous crowd filling the Hammer and Serpent this evening. Eris pushed a stray hank of hair back from her face, filling the third stein in a line set before her on the back wall with ale, wondering for the hundredth time in the past two weeks, where she would head next when she finally decided to tell Bard to stick his head up his ass.  
“Give me a minute!” she shouted over her shoulder, “Christ!”  
“ERIS!”  
She set the steins before the men standing at the bar, whirled about to glare at Bard standing at the opposite end , hands at his hips, “WHAT?”  
Bard cocked two fingers, gesturing her to him. She set her jaw, trudging down the length of the bar past other patrons yelling out their orders until she reached Bard, “What in the hell do you want? I've got thirsty customers!”  
“No,” Bard growled, leaning in close, “ _I_ have thirsty customers, _you_ have a date with the kitchen. Go help Fish with the dishes, that wench Bernette never showed. I'll take care of th' patrons...”  
Bard put a hand to her back, shoving her into the kitchen through the doorway at her right. Fish was racing back and forth before the fireplace, stirring the contents of a kettle a couple times, turning to a pan, adding a handful of something, a pinch of another, grabbing a knife from a hanger on the wall.   
“Just you and I is it?” Fish called to her, “Get your hands wet then,” he tilted his head to a couple of wooden tubs set atop a heavy stone ledge running along the wall. At one end were piled wooden chargers, pots, pans, a row of steins.   
“G'wan now, them patrons ain't bout to wait long,” Fish took a sip from a spoon, tapped the rest back into the kettle, “Or does Milady wish to save her hands for other chores?”  
“Go fuck yourself,” Eris sneered as Fish made a grab at his crotch.  
“Mebbe later,” Fish chuckled, “I've got me own work to do.”  
She rolled up the sleeves of her peasant blouse, wrinkled her nose and shoved her hands into the hot water of the first tub, “I didn't sign on for this shit.”  
Fish threw out a hand, flopping it forward at the wrist, “Gods, no. You were made for better things weren't ya?”  
She gritted her teeth, searched for the linen cloth in the soapy water, goddamn right I was.  
Fish put a finger atop his head turning an obscene pirouette, “You was gonna be a dancer, eh?”  
“I AM a dancer, you little cocksucker!” she spat, “And a whole lot more. Not that you'll ever find out.....ahhhh!!”  
Fish had flung the stew covered spoon at her back. It struck her square between the shoulderblades, the hot stew taking her breath away.  
“I ain't no cocksucker.....just like you ain't no dancer!” Fish screeched as she spun about to face him just in time to see Bard's hamfist bounce off the back of Fish's head.  
“I gots patrons out there waiting for a bowl a stew and you're back here prancing about? Get on with it!” Bard pointed then as he strode toward her, “And you...!”  
It took an instant for her situation to pass through her head. Earlier that evening, she'd opened the back door of the tavern to throw out the old dish water and found an icy steady rain had commenced falling, fog rolling from the stream that ran behind the tavern. The last thing she wanted was to find herself outside in those conditions with nowhere to go and so when Bard grabbed a hank of her hair and drew her face close to his, she kept the image in her head as a barrier against her reaction.  
“I din't send you back here to get in a row with 'im. Now do what you were asked and shut your great hole! I got bigger things to worry about than the two a you!”  
He shoved her toward the tubs, turned to head back out into the tavern proper, “Now put a lid on it, the both of ya.”  
She sniffled, rubbed her nose with the back of her hand, a useless gesture as it only made her face wetter but the tears running down her face weren't tears of sadness, rather they were rage, hatred, frustration. She'd traded one useless existence for another. Nothing had changed, not yet. She thought of the marker in the front pocket of her dress. All she had to do was press it, return home and face the consequences of her actions. Resign herself to a life of obscurity, being preyed upon by dirty old men unhappy with their lonely little lives as they stuffed dollar bills down her thong every night, clawing at her tits at three in the morning, hoping for a free blow job. Treating her no better than dog shit, always pulling the ladder out of reach, keeping her at level with the winos, the common whores standing on the corners in their maxi mini skirts and mesh shirts propositioning every car that slowed to take a longer look, the addicts, the child abusers...  
“FISH!” Bard bellowed from the doorway, “C'mere. I need a word with ya.”  
She hated to admit she hadn't planned on what to do once she'd arrived here in fairy tale land but there it was. Should she try to make a go of it, look for a rich customer who would transport her out of this roadside hell hole? If she couldn't showcase her talents, how could she expect to climb out of the gutter? How could she set herself on the path to easy living if her steps always led to this goddamn kitchen or the back of the long bar?  
“ERIS!” Bard called to her.  
She set a rinsed charger on the stone shelving, picked up another one and set it in the water, “What?”  
“Get over here!” Bard was waving at her from the doorway.  
“Okay, you sent me in here to do dishes because your hired help didn't show. I can't only do one thing at a time,” Eris leaned against the rim of the tub.  
“You want to make a few extra coin tonight, you'll forget the dishes and get your arse out here.”  
Eris turned to see Fish angrily handing his fiddle to a short stout balding gentleman with no teeth. The man bowed to Fish, winked at Eris as he slipped away back into the tavern.  
“We've a few nobles out there just come in from the storm. They asked to be entertained and they're willing ta pay. I told 'em I'd a dancer but she'd not be cheap so...” Bard cocked a thumb at the room behind him, “You do that routine ya showed me when you first came here. We'll see if the patrons like what they see. If they don't, back ya go behind the bar. How's that for incentive?”  
Eris already had her apron from around her waist, her bitterness at her former position in life forgotten as the performer in her began to go through one of the routines in her head. She wasn't going to pass up an opportunity for some extra cash. If she did indeed want to take off down the road, she'd need something to take off with. She undid her dark hair from the leather thong she'd tied it up with, bent over to tousle it a bit. She trotted over to Bard, flipping a brooding Fish the bird, snatching the tall broom on her way out of the kitchen, as Bard followed her with a wide grin.

Clink, clink, clink........clink! Eris sat atop the bar, grinning from ear to ear, the shouts and catcalls of the men still ringing in her ears, a small pile of coins cradled in her apron. When Mort, the stout fiddle player, had started up a lively tune, she had danced about the room, turning every trick she knew to arouse the mostly male audience who were watching, rapt, clapping in time to the music. She rode the broom, twisting about it, sliding it between her legs, her breasts, sitting on more than a few laps, finding plenty of wooden handles besides the one in her hand. She'd stretched herself backward over the laps of the three nobles, the older handsome man in the middle lining three gold coins in her cleavage. She danced for what felt like half the evening and when she finished, out of breath, slick with sweat, the tavern had erupted with shouts of “More! More!” Bard stood behind the bar, chest puffed out, hands on his hips and a grin on his face. She knew then that she'd made a breakthrough. This was confirmed when Bard walked over to sit on one of the empty chairs next to her scanning the now nearly empty tavern, most of the men having gone up to their lodgings, or been tossed out into the night to sleep off their overindulgence of ale.  
Eris stared hard at Bard until he chuckled, finally breaking out into a full bellied laugh, “Raimon wasn't far wrong. You've a talent for working the men into a lather,” Bard slapped the rough hewn wood of the bar, “More than one a them hadda stop for a little relief on the way home, I'll wager.”  
“More than one probably had a little relief while I was still dancing,” Eris quipped as Bard roared even harder. She smiled to herself. She hadn't heard him laugh this hard since she'd started working at the Hammer and Serpent.  
“You do a dance a night and we will put the Hammer and Serpent on every traveler's list.” Bard reached for his stein.  
“No. Too often and the men get bored,” Eris waggled a finger, “Two evenings a week until they beg for more, then we raise it to three....I get half of what I take in.”  
“Half? HA! A quarter share....you forget you've room and board here.”  
Eris looked up to the ceiling. Two floors above was a small room with an old cot covered by a ratty coverlet and a chamber pot shoved beneath the bed. She'd almost pissed herself the first night before she could bear to squat in the cold darkness and relieve herself.  
“Room. It's a shithole. Half a take or no dance.”  
Bard frowned slightly though his heavy brows knit a moment, “A third share and if ya won't take it, hang yourself and return to the kitchen for all I care.”  
A third share. Gold coins were still gold coins.   
“A third it is and I'll count it myself.”  
Bard's frown deepened further but suddenly, like a damn bursting, he let out a bray of laughter, “You, wench, are going to make me some coin.”  
Eris nodded. A month or so of this and then she would be down the road with nothing but dust to show she'd ever been there.


	38. 38

Eidra heard the muffled thump of the front door. She opened her eyes, squinting in the light of the lamp by the bed. Loki was standing by the wardrobe tying the laces of his breeches, humming softly to himself.  
“Are you going with him?” she mumbled, drawing the coverlet tighter about her.  
“I am. I told him to head off on his own, I would catch up with him. 'Twill give him more time alone to meditate.”  
“mmmm..,” there came the soft click creak of another door and she peered over the edge of the coverlet to see Brenna stick her head into the bedchamber.  
“Are you decent?”  
Loki nodded, took a folded tunic from one shelf, “Decent enough, come in if you are of a mind...”  
Brenna walked to the bed, dropping down beside her mother, gathering her nightgown around her feet.  
“So today is the day, is it?”  
Eidra's hand snaked out from beneath the covers to rub Brenna's arm, “That it is. Now you will have to address your brother as a man.”  
Brenna shook her head, “Not until he completes the ceremony. Tell me so after the celebration.”  
Loki had sat down in the dressing table chair to pull on his boots, now he looked up at Brenna, “Do you not expect your brother to pass the test?”  
“I did not say he would not pass. I only said I would not call him a man until he was indeed a man,” she gave Eidra a sly grin, “Of course he will always be a little worm to me.”  
“Bren,” Eidra sighed.  
“So now he is to travel to the temple in Cole, make offerings and meditate...,” Brenna ignored her mother's chiding.  
“Until just before sundown, yes,” Loki stood, walked to the bed, “He will purify himself in water from the Western Sea, then he will travel to Idavoll where we will have prepared the pit for the auroch..”  
“All alone,” Eidra moaned, “Speak no more of it. My heart is fair ready to leap from my chest.”  
Brenna patted her mother's hand as Loki sighed, “He is traveling from boyhood to manhood. He will not always have someone to rescue him from danger. He must begin to rely upon himself.”  
“He is yet a baby,” Eidra whispered but softer and Loki bent down, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead.  
“”And so he shall always be to you, my love...but he must also be a man.”  
Downstairs they could hear the thump clang of a kettle, muffled voices shouting to each other.  
“Hal and Gretten,” Eidra sat up, “They will be at each other all day preparing for the celebration feast tonight.”  
“Hole yourself up in Sally's room with the children, let them play and stay out of their way.” Loki stood, rubbing Brenna's shoulder as he headed for the door.  
“I cannot stay hidden from chores all day. I will be busy helping Vesta and Ingrid clean the house.”  
Loki stopped at the doorway, “Bren, let the women to their preparations. You do more of a service helping your mother with your brother and sisters.”  
Brenna rolled her eyes, “Do I not always?”  
“Until tonight then,” Loki winked at them and was gone.

 

Fen reached down once more to touch the quiver hanging from the pommel of his saddle.  
“It is still there, the Gods wept,” Gunnar laughed.  
“I know,” Fen felt the soft suede rim beneath his fingers.  
The night before, Brenna had come to his bedchamber, sat on his bed and handed the quiver to him.  
“I had this commissioned for you. It was to be your present at the celebration tomorrow evening but seeing as I expect the auroch to come out the winner, I thought I would give this to you tonight.”  
Fen gave her a half smile, “I know you do not mean it.”  
“The present or the expectation that you will catch the auroch's horn across your behind?”  
Fen laughed, “Your expectations. You know I will soon be a man.”  
Brenna traced the tooled workings on the quiver with her finger, “Did I ever tell you about the night I tried to leave you in the woods for the wolves to find?”  
Fen tilted his head, “What?”  
Brenna lay her hands in her lap, “One night, soon after you were born, I took you from Mama and Papa's room and brought you out into the woods. I wanted to leave you there for the wolves. I was jealous of you, so jealous. You were taking Mama's attention away. Like the foolish child I was, I thought if I could be rid of you, she would pay attention to me again.”  
Fen's mouth had hung open, “What stopped you?”  
“You started to cry when I lay you down on the ground. You were cold and wet.....and I thought about how sad Mama had been when Silas had died. I knew I could never bear to break her heart even though I knew she would dote on you because you were a baby and a boy to boot.....so I picked you up and brought you back home.”  
Fen looked down at the quiver, “Did Mama and Papa find out what you did?”  
Brenna nodded, “Yes indeed but Papa never spoke of it to me and Mama forgave me.”  
Fen hugged the quiver to his chest, “Do you regret not leaving me in the woods?”  
Brenna gave him a solid punch in the arm, “Yes every day......no, of course I do not, you little worm. Besides, who else would I have to blame when things go wrong or when chores are not finished? Cait and the twins are too little yet.”  
All at once, Fen was on his knees in the bed, his arms around her neck in a fierce hug, “The quiver is beautiful. Thank you.”  
After a moment, Brenna pushed him away from her, “Gods, 'tis not the King's great crown, 'tis a utilitarian thing...use it well tomorrow evening,” she put her hand atop his head, “And stay out of the way of that devil cow's horns.”

 

“I would you could come with me to the temple,” Fen sighed.  
“As do I..,” Gunnar nodded.  
“But if I am to be a man, I must make this pilgrimage alone...,” Fen finished, “Still I am...,” he bit back the word nervous. It made him sound like a woman, as did frightened.   
“You are worried.”  
Fen kept his eyes trained on a spot between Agathon's ears, “I am excited.....and perhaps a little worried.”  
Gunnar reached across, clapping him on the shoulder, “My friend, I was terrified at my rite of passage.”  
All at once, Fen felt as if wings had sprouted from his back. If he tried hard enough he imagined he could fairly fly to the temple. His best friend, fledgling Royal guard, the bravest boy Fen had ever known had been terrified?   
“Truly?”  
Gunnar laughed aloud causing his horse, Star, to sidestep a bit, “Of course! Imagine yourself standing in that pit, naked as the day your mother birthed you, your bow in hand, sword at your waist,” Gunnar waved his hand over the road before them, “And across the way stands the giant Auroch, long curved horns, eyes lit in the torchlight like black diamonds, drool hanging from the corner of his mouth just waiting to run you through. And that is not the more frightening aspect of it all for above you at the rim of the pit stand your peers, friends, family,” Gunnar shuddered, “Your father. If you fail in your rite, you risk dishonor upon your family. I would welcome the Auroch's horns ere I brought such shame to my father's house.”  
“I thought fear was weakness.” Fen turned to Gunnar.  
“I would think a fool anyone who was not afraid. Only do not let your fear follow you into the pit and you will come out a man.”  
Fen smiled, his heart lighter than it had been that morning when he set out, “I will, indeed.”

 

Colin spurred Blackberry to a gallop, not only wanting to make the manor house by midday, but needing an outlet for his frustration.   
He had finished his daily visit at the longhouses, had stopped in to chat with Simon who was still on shore leave, so to speak, then he'd headed back to the manor. He'd not gotten halfway there when he'd met up with Brenna on her way to the encampment. Purely out of spite, he'd remarked upon the fact that she must be quite privileged to be able to escape from the preparations at the manor. Expecting an outburst of anger in reply, he'd been distressed to find her suddenly in tears. She had stammered that he was completely right, turned Willow and galloped off in the direction she'd come before Colin could say anything more. He wasn't sure if she'd been truly penitent or was merely playing him in order to avoid further discussion on the matter. He considered looping back around to the longhouses but in the end continued on to the manor house. It was her problem after all. As he rode,his irritation grew until he was racing toward the homestead.  
Upon arrival at the stables, he gave Blackberry's reins to Eldred who had been throwing hay into Willow's stall as she nibbled contentedly at her feed. When he entered the foyer, he could hear Brenna's voice in the dining hall. She was speaking to Cait. Steeling himself, he continued through the house, passing her by on his way to the kitchen, giving her not so much as a glance.  
The kitchen itself was overrun with people, some he didn't recognize. Eidra had informed him members of the High Council would be in attendance at the rite of passage and so their wives would be helping in the preparation of the celebratory feast. Colin was happy to see Lily sitting at the kitchen table. He nodded to her and she gave him a polite smile as Eidra looked up from her work.  
“Oh Colin. My husband was looking for you. He and the rest of the men have set out for the Utiseta,” Eidra rose from the table, headed for the kitchen door where sat a satchel. She picked it up, thrusting it into his hands, “Inside is a linen wrap, a parcel of cheese and bread for the conclusion of the ceremony; you will need it. Also a bundle of lavender for the smudge fire. Give it to the fire keeper for an offering. Make haste, Loki said to send you as soon as you arrived.”  
“Yes, Mother,” he clutched the satchel to his chest as she hurried him out the kitchen door into the back yard.  
“Off with you now, you impertinent boy!”   
A few minutes later he was mounting Blackberry yet again. The horse canted his head about, shaking it at Colin who shrugged, “Sorry, boy. Don't want to be tardy today. You can rest yerself later.”  
Colin clucked his tongue and they were off down the grassy path along the fields behind the manor.


	39. 39

Even at full gallop with a few minutes rest in between, it took the better part of an hour to reach the domed structure sitting in a cleared swath of grassland at the edge of the Western Sea. The day before yesterday, Colin had pitched in to build the sweat lodge along with Loki, Thor, Silas, Garik, Gunnar and other High Council members who would be present at the ceremony, digging the fire pit, assembling the birch framework, covering the frame with buckskin and cowhide.  
Now, as he reined in Blackberry a few yards distant, his heart started to pound. The night before, he'd lain awake thinking again about his sad physique as he had been wont to do every spare moment since Loki had formally invited him to attend the ritual. Even the elderly Asgardian men seemed to keep themselves fit as they aged. He also considered the great honor he was being given, allowed to witness and participate in such a personal ritual. But at this moment, all he could do was try to swallow his trepidation, hope he followed protocol properly.   
Around a low burning fire a couple yards from the sweat lodge stood a group of men. A bit further back, a line of horses had been tied to a wooden cross pole set into the ground. Colin walked Blackberry to the cross pole, tying him off beside Lightning, took a deep breath and approached the circle of men.  
All was silent as he sidled in between Loki and Silas. Overhead, the skies had turned a gunmetal gray, threatening rain. Loki glanced sidelong at him, giving a barely perceptible nod. Across the circle, Thor broke the silence.  
“Let us proceed into the lodge.”  
Colin unshouldered the satchel, drawing out the lavender and whispering to Loki, “Who do I give this to?”  
Loki nodded to a young man who moved forward to put more stones around the edge of the fire pit as the men moved away toward the sweat lodge, “He will keep the fire going, the stones hot. Give it to him as an offering to Ymir.”  
Colin handed the young dark haired man the lavender bundle, clasped his hands together and gave a short bow. The young man returned the bow as Loki led Colin away toward a large oaken barrel  
“Now,” Loki lifted one of the pewter dippers that were hooked to the edge and handed it to him, “Drink. At least two dippers worth to begin with so you will not suffer from your sweating. You may exit the lodge to replenish your water but remember, do not do so in a manner which will interrupt any prayers.”  
Colin looked about at the men who were passing the dippers between one another, “Be respectful. Got it.”   
Already the men had begun to shed their garments, wrapping linens about their waist, securing them with a knot at the hip.  
Colin took the dipper, immersed it into the barrel, bringing it, filled, to his lips. The water was sweet, shockingly cold and it took his breath away at first.  
“Tell me,” he gasped, dropping the dipper into the water again, “how long are we going to be in this lodge?”  
“A relatively short time. After our sweat, we will purify ourselves further in the waters of the Western Sea. We must then adorn ourselves and proceed to the pit to ready the auroch for Fen's arrival. We should emerge well before sundown.”  
Colin chewed his lip. Under normal circumstances, sweat lodges could be hazardous. He'd heard of people overheating and dying in saunas. It was not the way he wanted to go, not even close. He handed the dipper to Loki who smiled at him, “Do not worry, my friend. You are not expected to remain in the lodge with us the entire time. Your first sweat can be a bit overwhelming. Please, if you feel you cannot bear it, by all means leave the lodge to refresh yourself. We all shall do so at one time or another.”  
“Don't give me the option to pussy out,” Colin chuckled as he watched Thor begin to undress. Colin focused on a grassy spot before him as he started to unlace his breeches. He grabbed the linen wrap from his satchel, securing it about his waist, then drawing his tunic over his head, he dropped it beside his breeches. The young man who was tending the fire, entered the lodge with a wooden bucket in which sat another dipper. There was a sharp hiss from inside the lodge and the young man emerged, bowing to Thor who raised the flap of the lodge.  
The men filed inside, forming a circle around the pit of stones in the middle of the lodge. As Colin stepped into the darkness, it felt as though a sopping washcloth had been placed over his mouth. He drew in a deep breath and began to cough. The others glanced up at him with knowing smiles but said nothing.  
“Bend forward,” Loki whispered, “The colder air is lowest in the lodge.”  
Colin bent over at the waist, hands on his knees, trying to breath evenly until he felt he could stand again. When, at last, his eyes adjusted to the interior, he noticed braziers filled with glowing coals had been placed around the lodge, giving a hellish glow to the darkness surrounding them.  
“Sit,” Thor gestured to the men.  
To Colin's relief, the temperature of the air dropped by a few scant degrees as he sat cross-legged upon the mats strewn about the dirt floor. Already the sweat was beading up along his skin. Thor took a dipperful of water out of the bucket beside him and slowly poured it over the rocks in the center pit. A cloud of steam filled the lodge, obscuring what light there was to see by. Colin dropped his head forward, taking slow even breaths, feeling the weight of the air about him. He listened to the others shifting about, panting. Then Thor began to speak in Old Norse. Colin waited with anticipation. Even with his rudimentary grasp of the language under Loki's instruction, he knew the incident at Odin's funeral had been out of the ordinary. The sweat was now pouring off him. He forced himself to focus on Thor's words, the tight rolling lilt, the inflection and sure enough, the words began to coalesce, sounding at once foreign and familiar.  
“Ymir”, “Yggdrassil”, “Purify..... in fire and light..”   
Colin's head lolled back on his neck....  
“.....blessings....... “  
How could the man draw breath to speak?  
“....offerings to the......”  
His head was swimming, tongue felt pasted to the roof of his mouth....how long had he been in the lodge?  
“......us our homes.....Allfather....”  
His stomach began to churn as the lodge answered, in unison, a word lost to his ears. He stood on unsteady legs, gasped. The air was hotter by far nearer the lodge roof. Biting his lip as hard as he could, he groped for the door flap, nearly falling through it to the grass outside. The shock of the cold air, far from refreshing him as it should have done, seemed to grip his stomach like a tube of toothpaste. He stumbled forward, trying to give the lodge entrance a wide berth as he dropped to his knees on the ground, vomiting the contents of his stomach into the tall grass at the edge of the cleared circle. It felt as if he was being drained from his toes upward, his entire body seemed to tense as he purged again, grateful for the fact he'd not eaten a large breakfast as Loki had warned him.  
A soft chuckle reached his ears as he felt a hand touch his shoulder, “Well done.”  
“I'm a fecking lightweight,” he croaked, wiped his nose, peering up at Loki, “Give me a tick. I'll be back inside.”   
“You need not continue,” Loki helped him to his feet, “You have lasted longer than could be expected...”  
But Colin held a hand in the air, “I'm down, not out.”  
Behind them, the tent lodge flap opened. Silas and Gunnar stepped out into the brisk breeze blowing off the sea some distant. Gunnar, bent over, retched and spit on the ground before following his father to the barrel for a dipperful of water.  
Colin glanced at his satchel where he'd stashed his wrist band. He considered checking it to see the time then Loki was guiding him over to the barrel, placing the dipper in his hand.  
If the water had been sweet before, it was like fine wine now. He took a second dipperful. On the third, Loki held his hand down, “Too much water is also bad. Are you ready to return?”  
Colin nodded, “Aye. After you.”  
As they entered the lodge, the searing steam enveloped them yet again though it seemed not as overwhelming as it had at the onset. A curious sound reached his ears. A rustling thwack thwack issued from the dimly lit interior.  
“Harder, Garik,” Thor grunted as Colin squinted in an effort to discern the shapes among the steam.   
The men were standing now, in pairs, one with a bundle of birch branches in hand. He was striking his partner about the torso, arms, legs.   
“You hit like a girl,” one of the men laughed.  
Loki took a dipperful of water from the bucket, pouring it over his head, gasping. He held the dipper out to Colin, “Do as I do.”  
Colin poured the dipper of water over his head. Where the cold air had been a shock, the cold water was invigorating. He shook his head, spattering water about.  
A bundle of branches was pushed into his hand. He looked up at Loki who now stood with his hands behind his head, “If ever I pushed you to the brink of frustration, now is your time to have your revenge.”  
“Ah...”  
“Do you not recall my instructions? Strike me.”  
Colin stared at the branches in his hand, trying to imagine how he was going to word this incident in his journal.  
“Come now,” Loki peered over his shoulder, “Then I shall return the favor.”  
Colin gritted his teeth, tapping Loki across the shoulder blades a couple times before Loki rolled his eyes, turned and took the branches from him.  
“Perhaps if I go first, it will incite you to respond in kind.”  
Colin set his jaw, raising his arms about his head, grunting with the first blow.   
“Take care, Brother. He is but a human and likely to break.”  
“Ha..ah!” Colin called out, “I've a tough hide...uh!”  
The men about him chuckled as Loki continued his assault with blows hard enough to smart.  
“This....will bring the.....blood to your.....skin,” Loki finished, handing the boughs to Colin, “Have no fear.”  
Colin nodded, began to strike at Loki's back as the lodge flap opened. The fire keeper entered the stifling interior, a leather sling of hot rocks over one shoulder. He tipped the sling above the pit and the stones tumbled out with a sharp clack.  
“Well done,” Loki panted, “When you write home, you may lay claim to having struck a Prince of Asgard..”  
“Ya know, that's just what I was...thinking,” Colin laughed as he stepped back for the final few blows. There was another hiss as Thor poured more water onto the stones and steam, lightly scented with lavender and sweetgrass, filled the lodge.  
“Let us sit again for our second sweat,” Thor settled onto the mats.  
Colin found his endurance seemed to have increased, the steam was having a soporific effect on him. As Thor began to sing in a rumbling voice, the others joined in. Colin listened to the song, reclining onto the mat, letting his mind wander as the steam caressed him like a lover.  
All at once, the song changed, became familiar. Somewhere in the back of his consciousness, he found himself singing with them....was he saying the words aloud?  
He closed his eyes, unable or unwilling to open them again, heard Loki's words the evening before, echo in his head... _“Visions are not unusual within the sacred lodge. Do not fight them. Do not try to interpret their meaning....just see them.”_  
Colin opened his eyes. He was no longer in the sweat lodge. He was in the throne room of the palace Asgard. Of this he was sure. The great throne stood in its place of honor atop the high dais but as he pivoted about, he could see the trappings, the decorations were vastly different. The drapes which hung from the ceiling, usually parted to allow the grand views from the balcony, instead of a rich blood red damask, were a deep midnight blue. They were now closed across the arches which flanked one side of the room to deflect the cold winter air. He glanced down to the floor at his feet. Instead of polished marble inlaid with ornate mosaic designs, it was rough hewn flagstone.   
“Vol!” came a high pitched voice. He turned about to see a short stocky young woman clad in a voluminous black velvet high bodiced dress accented with gold silk pleats. Her long brown hair was piled elaborately atop her head, her large brown eyes sparkled as she smiled at him, her round cheeks sported a ruddy complexion. She couldn't be called beautiful in the sense of the word, rather handsome. As she drew closer, Colin could see tears glittering at the corner of her eyes and all at once she looked irritatingly familiar. He knew her, somehow he knew her. As she clapped him on the, he noticed she had a long dagger in her other hand which she sheathed into a scabbard at her waist.  
“ 'Tis sad is it not?” she sighed, “That this will likely be the last time ever we see one another,” she patted her cheeks and a prickle of the familiar caught Colin's attention again, “Oh dear, I cannot think on it. Whatever will we do? The nights spent in our cups, playing games, singing songs, the hunts, great Bor, the hunts....?”  
He smiled at the woman as the tall doors at the opposite end of the throne room swung open. A fire giant, skin the color of blood, his black hair tied into a topknot, eyes entirely coal black, the iris flame red, ducked into the room. He was dressed in elaborate leather armor and tall boots and wore a somber look upon his face. A scar reached from the corner of his mouth to the lobe of his left ear to the effect he seemed to be half smiling. Beside him, reaching only to his knee, strode a short barrel chested man dressed in a fine silk tunic and leather breeches, his blond beard braided and tied with a green ribbon swinging to his waist.  
“Zola. Enough with your maudlin whining. It will not change the King's decision.”  
Colin looked back to the throne where sat a young man with auburn hair and beard curled and flowing wild about his face. He too had a look of the familiar. Colin shook his head slowly.  
“See Volundr agrees.”  
“Melos,” the giant boomed and Colin gazed up at him. He was even with the waist of the giant's tooled leather skirt, “Must you be so churlish? Let her lament such a sad day. We have all earned that right.”  
“Bantr,” the woman called up to him, “Would you be so kind as to soundly thump Melos over the head?”  
The man stood there arms crossed, defiant as the giant brought his hand up as if to smash it down atop the man's blond head. The giant smiled then, ruffling the man's hair hard enough to nearly take him off his feet.  
“My friends,” the man upon the throne spoke and they all turned, bowing deeply....somewhere off in the distance he could hear chanting..., “You have done Asgard a great service...”  
Colin's head was swimming. He stared hard at the man, fixing in his head the scene before him.  
“....by bringing the Runes together again. Now I must ask of you to safeguard them until fate returns them home again. You have restored the safety of the nine realms....”  
Colin felt his stomach tighten again but he fought it down...  
“Zola....”  
“Your Majesty...,” the woman bowed, walking up the stairs to speak with the man.  
“King Bor looks so very tired does he not?” the giant whispered to him.  
Colin could only nod.....  
“Melos...”  
One by one they walked up the stairs to the dais, returning to stand beside him until the King called, “Volundr...”  
“Go on now,” Melos pushed him forward and he was trudging up the steps to stand before the young King.  
“My ever faithful servant. My finest royal guard. You alone led the others to retrieve the runes and so you have the gratitude of the realms to follow you and your kin the rest of your days. Take the Rune Uruz...,” The king took Colin's hand, placing in it the opal disc, closing his fingers around it, “When the elementals are needed again they will call you home.”  
Colin opened his hand to stare at the disc he'd looked at almost every day for nearly five months, his jaw slack. The chanting was growing louder....  
He drifted down the steps to where the others waited, staring at him.  
In Bantr's hand was a small wooden chalice, gilded in gold. Melos proudly held in his hand a polished hunk of green glass shaped into a point. Zola was gazing at the ring finger of her left hand upon which she wore a ring with a brilliant blue stone set into it...and at once he was sure he'd seen it before....the ring and the glass....certainly the Uruz....  
He whirled about to speak to the others but they had disappeared. He turned again to find ....the light in the throne room had dimmed now to a hellish red glow. Colin stared about the dark throne room, spiying a middle aged woman bent over a small brazier before the doors, her face in shadow. As he neared her, he recognized her silhouette.  
“And now you see,” Trena chuckled, “I was of a mind to think you would never find your way here.”  
“What do I fecking see?”  
Trena's hand shot out, snatching him by the ear, giving it a painful tug, “You see who you are. Where you came from. The question now is where shall you be going?”  
His eyes flew open, his head shot upward as he drew a deep breath inward, the steam fairly suffocating for a moment.  
A hand touched his arm and he let out a cry, immediately slapping his hand across his mouth.  
He looked to his left at Loki who was smiling at him, “We are nearly ready to conclude the purification ceremony.”   
The other men were rising to stand, stretching, clapping themselves upon their arms. Colin could still see the throne room in his mind.  
“Did I nod off?” he struggled to his knees. His legs felt as if he'd run a marathon.  
“Your eyes were open. You were chanting with us,” Thor called to him, “You have gained a working knowledge of our ancient language. I confess I am impressed.”  
Colin gave him a jerky smile. He'd hoped he'd fallen asleep. At least then he could believe he'd been dreaming, “I've learned a bit.”  
He glanced back to Loki who was now staring hard at him but soon enough his expression softened.  
“You did well for your first purification. Now for your reward.”  
Thor held open the lodge flap as the men filed out, whooping into the late afternoon air. One by one, the linen wraps dropped to the ground as the men began to wade through the tall grass, then to race down the beach toward the crashing surf of the Western Sea.  
Once outside, Loki dropped his own wrap. Colin could do naught but stare, wondering how he hadn't noticed until now, how many scars adorned Loki's arms, legs, the patchwork of faded raised lines cover his back, the particularly large scar stretching across his chest, faded but still visible.  
“Yer skins a bloody road map,” Colin nodded at him.  
At first Loki tilted his head then looking down at himself, he grinned, “You mean my scars....,” he touched the one on his chest, “Indeed, and a story for every one. Come, let us see who shall hit the water first!”  
With a roar, Loki pivoted about, sprinting through the tall grass, Colin close at his heels. The vision momentarily forgotten, Colin laughed aloud as his feet slapped the wet sand, his momentum carrying him into the surf as the frigid water struck his skin. He landed face first into the oncoming wave. By reaction he drew in a breath, receiving a mouthful of salt water instead of the brisk sea air. He fought to right himself, coughing and sputtering as the wave rolled him over onto his back. All at once, hands were lifting him from the water. He heard laughter, coughed again, clearing his mouth of brine and sand, drew a deep ragged breath.  
“ 'Tis a shock to your body,” Thor shouted.  
“Next time you might raise your skirts and tiptoe in,” Silas clapped him on the back.  
They swam about for a few moments more, splashing, yelling, shouting to the sky until Loki stood dripping upon the shore clapping his hands loudly.  
“The hour of passage draws near. Come let us prepare!”  
Colin raced up the shore toward the lodge with the others. He'd never felt so free, so welcome, so alive in his life.


	40. 40

“Announcing her Majesty, Queen Jane..,” Hal called into the crowded kitchen.  
Eidra leaped up from the bench at the table, wiping her hands on a towel as the other ladies began to stand but Jane waved at them as she sidled by Hal.  
“Don't you dare get up. I told him I didn't need to be announced, honestly,” she rolled her eyes at Hal who looked thoroughly chided, “I would have been here sooner but I had to threaten Thor to let me come at all. I mean..,” Jane let herself down on the bench beside Eidra who'd moved to make room for her, “I'm in the second trimester. It's the safest time to travel,”  
“It is one aspect wherein brother follows brother,” Eidra patted her arm, “When I was pregnant, Loki would have me carried everywhere I went if he could have....he treated me as a delicate flower....'twas maddening..,”  
The women about the table nodded knowingly. Beth set a couple of bowls down at the opposite end of the table and took a chair.   
“When my mother was pregnant with me, my daddy said she would go to the Y and exercise every day, go swimming, jog....she was a health nut,” Beth patted her ample stomach, “Sorry to say not much of it rubbed off on me.”   
“Health...nut? One of the women, a jovial looking lady with ruddy cheeks, wrinkled her nose, “What is a health nut?”  
“Someone who eats the right foods, doesn't smoke, drink, gets fresh air, exercises,” Lily grinned ruefully, “And dies in the end anyway.”  
“Got that right,” Beth nodded, looking up to the ceiling and crossing herself, “But not for many long years, please and thank you.”  
Jane felt a tug at her right sleeve and looked down to see Cait and Edie standing there.   
“Your Majesty,” Cait curtsied, bumped Edie with her hip and Edie's hands flew into action.  
“Why hello, such polite young ladies but I'm..afraid I don't..”  
Ingrid, sitting across the table from Jane, eyed the two girls, “She signed hello, your Majesty. Cait, the two of you go finish your chore. The butter must be well ready by now. The two of you have been on it since midday.”   
“Yes Ma'am,” Cait curtsied again before the two girls raced away.  
Jane patted her stomach, smiling, “I feel like I shouldn't rush through this but I have to confess I can't wait for the baby to be born,”  
“That is when the fun truly begins, your Majesty,” Ingrid chuckled.  
“Speaking of fun, where are the twins?” Jane turned to Eidra.  
“Vesta is fetching them from their nap. They slept overlong today because we have been so busy I fear they will be unruly if we do not wake them. I wish to give them their evening meal and settle them in early before the house is full of guests.”   
Eidra peered out of the windows which overlooked the back yard. The gray sky was beginning to darken. The sun was setting. She pursed her lips together and closed her eyes for a moment, sending out a silent prayer for her eldest son.

 

Colin stared up at the sky as Silas smeared another two fingers across his left cheek. The smell of the paint was faintly sweet, earthy with a slightly unpleasant odor of dung and old grease, mixed as it had been with rendered tallow.  
“It smells like shite,” Colin mumbled while Silas dug another two fingers into the pot to smear two lines down his chin.  
“This is a sacred part of the ritual. It brings luck, guards against evil, insures the wearer will suffer no harmful spirits to invade his body at such an important rite...”   
“Well then it smells like sacred shite,” Colin quipped.   
Behind him, Loki laughed, “Take care lest you insult the good spirits in attendance.”  
Over Silas's shoulder Colin spied the apparition of Chris standing at the edge of the pit a few yards distant staring down at the auroch, an opaque hand to his mouth.  
“Aye, I'll not take the chance. My lips are zipped.”  
When they had arrived at the pit and the men began to strip down to nothing save their cloaks, Colin shed his garments right alongside them, his inhibitions having long passed, he would guess, somewhere between dismounting at the purification lodge and walking inside with the rest of the men. Colin turned to Loki who was painting strange symbols across Thor's bare chest. There was merriment in his demeanor but his eyes held the full gravity of the situation. Soon he would be painting his firstborn son and sending him on his way to become a man......or to die. Colin looked away. There would be no way he could put his own child through such an ordeal though he made no judgment upon the Asgardians for following their beliefs, only he held no envy for Loki at this moment.  
The thunder of hoofbeats sounded in the distance, growing nearer and nearer. Loki tensed, his hand hovering at Thor's face but Thor clapped him on the shoulder.  
“Fear not, Brother, fear not.”  
The men turned in unison as Fen dropped down from Agathon's back. A great bonfire had been built a short distance from the pit. Beside it sat a squat stone basin of water. Fen drew off his tunic, dropping it to the ground beside him. His breeches followed in short order then he knelt beside the basin and began to rub the cold water over his arms, legs, chest. Colin looked about at the men's faces. All had turned serious though none so grim as Loki.   
The auroch which had earlier been driven into the pit by a group of hunters from the nearby village of Cole, chose that moment to give a loud bellow which echoed off the surrounding hillside.  
Fen's head came up to stare at the pit, the edge of which was surrounded by tall blazing torches. He stood from the basin, turned to the men and trotted over to them until he was standing before Loki, wet and naked as the day of his birth.  
“Are you ready to shed the mantle of youth, to be reborn, to claim your place among men?” Loki's voice was hoarse.  
“I am, Pa...,” Fen's eyes flitted to the men standing around him, “I am, Father.”  
“Are you prepared to take a life? To be transformed in death and in light?”  
The auroch, seeming to sense what was coming, bellowed again into the darkening sky.  
Fen stood straighter, “I am.”  
Thor stepped forward holding out two wooden bowls before him. Loki dipped his fingers into the paint and started to adorn Fen's face, chest and arms he curved a snake across Fen's pectorals, another twined around first one bicep then the other. Each time the auroch would sound, the men would look toward the pit.   
Finally, Loki dipped his thumb into the pot of color, pressed it to Fen's forehead, drew it down the bridge of his nose to the tip and stepped back to nod. Fen turned about, walked over to where Agathon stood, taking his quiver and bow from the saddle. He looped the quiver around his back, reached into the satchel hanging from the pommel, drew out his sheathed dagger and fastened it around his thigh.  
The men had moved to stand around the rim of the pit. When they had arrived at the site just before dusk, Colin had avoided looking into the pit at the great beast. Now he steeled himself as he stepped up to the edge to stand between two torches.  
In the pit below, trotting around the perimeter snorting angrily, shaking his head, ropes of saliva dribbling from the corners of his mouth was the auroch. At first glance he was similar in looks to a Brahma bull but in looks only. Even from a high angle, Colin was sure if he were to stand beside the beast, he would have a stretch just to reach the withers and he stood at exactly six feet. Thick horns rose from its head, leveling out, curling inward into two sharp points. Its auburn pelt was stained dark with sweat and muck, hooves splashing mud at each step. When the auroch would make a circuit around, it would come to the ramp leading into the pit and start to trot up it only to meet the line of torches interspersed with long logs pounded into the earth and aimed downward, hewn to dagger points . It would bellow its frustration, swinging about to rush down the ramp into the pit again.  
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Colin whispered, suddenly realizing why the men came to the rite naked, devoid of any weapons. His first instinct, and Fen wasn't even his, would have been to leap into the pit to protect the boy from this enraged nightmare.   
Colin looked across the pit to the edge of the ramp where Loki now stood with Fen at his side, From his perspective, Loki towering over him, Fen looked far smaller, much younger than his twelve years. Fen stepped forward, easing himself between the logs to stand on the ramp. He looked down into the pit, his chest heaving, bow clenched in his hand, then his eyes scanned the men gathered about the rim. He took a deep breath and began to speak.  
“To honor the spirits of my ancestors who sit on high in Vallhalla, to honor my father, to take my place among men. I give thanks to you for your sacrifice, great auroch. Let this kill serve as a symbol of my passage from boy to man. This I ask in the name of the mighty Allfather.”  
Fen's words echoed loud in the confines of the pit and with some surprise, Colin realized that in the short time he'd been on Asgard, the boy's voice had grown deeper. He no longer sounded like the youth Colin had met when he first arrived, he sounded like the man Colin prayed to God he was about to become. All at once, from the men surrounding the pit there came a roar, a clamor so loud it was almost deafening. At the great cacophony, the auroch shook its head and bellowed in return, pawing the ground while they continued to rend the night with their shouts.  
Finally Fen started down the ramp.

 

Fen's hand ached. He loosened his grip on the bow ever so slightly. Before his descent into the pit when his gaze had come to rest on Gunnar standing at the rim beside Silas, Gunnar had nodded. The shouts, cries of the men above him were driving the auroch into a frenzy. On the way to the site, Fen's heart had fallen as he rode through a cold brief rain shower. The rain would render the pit a morass of mud and as he reached the bottom of the ramp, his fears were confirmed when he slid the last couple steps to the bottom of the pit.  
 _“Do not hesitate,”_ his father had whispered to him, _“Dispatch the auroch with all due haste.”_  
Fen reached into the quiver at his back, the movement catching the aurochs eye. It swung about, seeming to stare at him in disbelief, raised it's head to the black night and let loose a bay that made the hair prickle at his neck.   
He notched an arrow against the string, felt it slide off, re-seated it, drew back and let fly. The arrow sailed over the top of the charging beast to bury itself into the side of the pit. Dumbfounded, he let precious moments tick away until he felt the ground began to shudder beneath him. At the last, he jumped off the end of the ramp, dug his feet into the muck and began to run.

As the arrow struck the wall of the pit feet below him, Colin found his voice.   
“MOVE YER FUCKING ARSE!”   
The men about him were shouting encouragement, spitting epithets at the bull, some were simply roaring. Colin glanced across the expanse of the pit to Loki who stood at the top of the ramp, mouth open, panting, his hand spasming upon one of the sharpened logs beside him as if he wished to tear it from the ground. Colin looked down into the pit again just in time to see Fen slip in the mud, falling forward onto his stomach, the bull only a few steps behind.

 

Fen felt himself canting forward, felt the bow start to slide through his fingers when he opened his hand on instinct to catch himself as he fell. The auroch shook the ground as it raced toward him, mud spattering his back in great globs. He slid forward, feeling for purchase in the soupy earth of the pit, struggling to rise, to run. A hoof drove into the ground to his right, a bare inch shy of his ribcage, another hitting the mud just above his left shoulder. The beast was standing above him. He rose to his knees starting forward between the animal's forelegs when it dropped its head, spearing the ground before his face with a spiraled horn.   
He backpedaled, rolling to the side between the auroch's hind and forelegs, finding a solid patch of ground. He leaped to his feet and started to run, only making a couple steps before he was sent flying forward through the air, the wind pushed from his lungs in a great whoop as the side of the auroch's rock hard skull caught him between the shoulder blades.   
He rolled onto his back, grimacing at the hard press of the quiver between his bruised shoulderblades, trying to draw air, coughing from the mire that found its way into his mouth. His ears were ringing so loudly, he could scarce hear the shouts of the men from above. He slapped at the slippery mud searching for his bow, fighting the dizziness that threatened to shut his eyes.  
The auroch gave a derisive snort, pawing the mud with a sharp hoof, waiting, as if to say, “Go ahead, look for your weapon. It will matter not in the end.”  
If he could not shoot the auroch then he would drive the arrows home with his hand. Fen reached back into the quiver and at once began to panic. Had the arrows fallen from his quiver while he was lying in the mud stunned? Then his fingers found one shaft, another. Four arrows left, muddy, but intact. When he looked up to the rim of the pit, he spied Gunnar kneeling at the edge, yelling, pointing. Fen scanned the ground wildly Where was he looking? Then he saw it. The bow was lying on its side half buried in the mud but a few steps distant...in the path of the auroch.  
Fen stood up and for a moment their eyes met. Boy against beast. Fen put his arms up, fists flailing the sky as he took a deep breath and let out a roar, advancing toward the auroch who, unused to such bravado from such a small animal, tilted his head, retreating a few steps as Fen drew closer and closer to the bow, grinning, aware that he'd gained the upper hand for the first time since he'd stepped off the ramp.   
He felt his toe nudge the bow's curve and with a whoop he bent forward to pick it up. The auroch seeming in anger at having been cowed into losing ground, lowered his head with a grunt and started to charge. Again Fen was running, this time toward the wall of the pit, drawing an arrow from the quiver as he slogged though the mud. With the briefest of prayers that the wet bowstring and the muddied arrow would work in unison against the auroch, he turned, notched it against the string and let fly. With an almighty bellow, the auroch veered to the left as the arrow drove into the top of its foreleg. The beast slammed into the pit wall, snapping the shaft of the arrow, leaving the head buried, to rake through bone, muscle, sinew.  
Above Fen's head, the roar of the men grew to a fever pitch. He chanced a glance to the top the ramp where his father stood, pale, one foot on the downward slope. As he'd walked down the ramp into the pit he'd wondered if his father would leave him to be gored by the auroch or he would leap into the pit to save him if indeed it came down to such a fate. To do so would have meant disgrace to the family, a son forever straddling the cusp between childhood and maturity. He was going to make sure his father need not take another step past the torches.  
The bull had regained its footing, pain driving it mad with rage. It swung its head about with another bellow and began to charge him again. Fen began to back around the wall of the pit, following the curve to the left as he fumbled for another arrow. The auroch was losing momentum trying to follow his target, the arrow already offsetting its left foreleg, grinding the muscle to shreds, giving Fen time enough to notch another arrow. He butted his heel against the sheer wall of the pit, drew the bow and let fly. Another arrow struck home, this time burying itself into the auroch's withers. The auroch however, acted as if the arrow had never touched it, veering only slightly before righting itself to continue its relentless charge.  
Only then did Fen realize his mistake. His back was to the wall, there was nowhere to go. The curve of the pit meant there was no straight run, left or right the auroch need only make a small adjustment and he would be upon Fen. When the auroch lowered his head, everything fell into sharp relief. The sharp points of the horns, the shouts of his friend, his uncle, Colin, his father, the feel of the mud beneath his feet, the flickering light of the torches, the vibration of the ground as the bull closed the distance between them. He reached into the quiver and withdrew an arrow. After this, he would only have one more left but he doubted there would be time to draw twice. He knew where to hit. He had taken down more than a few bucks on hunts with his father only the bucks hadn't been charging at him in a dimly lit muddy pit. The bull would be on him in seconds. He drew the bow, sighting it between the jawline of the auroch and its left foreleg where it would split the flesh, and spear the heart. He set his shoulder, drew, let fly.   
The arrow shot forward but Fen never saw it hit its mark. In his haste to clear out of the bull's path, his feet slipped from beneath him and all at once things happened faster than he could comprehend. The bull let a sound somewhere between a bellow and a wail, its forelegs buckling to the ground as it became a one ton wall of rock hurtling toward him. He scrambled forward as the body of the auroch skidded sideways, rolling to it's back, over again to its side coming closer and closer until the light from the torches disappeared like the setting sun over the ridge of its back and Fen closed his eyes.

Colin watched the bull slam into the wall of the pit, legs first, blotting out his view of Fen and he swayed, holding tight to the torch beside him, sure he was shortly going to be sick. Across the pit, he saw Loki stumble forward, dropping to his knees, one hand holding the side of the log. The men had fallen silent, the only sound now the wind, the whisper of the torches, the crackle of the bonfire. Colin wanted to go to Loki, help him with the hardest task of his life but he couldn't make his feet obey his wishes.   
“LOOK!” Gunnar cried, “LOOK!”  
A hand had appeared over the top of the dead auroch's ribcage, followed by its twin. Trembling, black with mud but smiling triumphantly, Fen hauled himself over the side of the great beast, sliding down into the mud of the pit as the sky split with the thunderous approval of his peers.  
Loki had regained his feet now, taking the ramp at a hazardous rate, racing across the muddied ground to catch Fen across the chest, lifting him off his feet with a roar, holding him tight as Fen raised his arms, crying his success to the heavens.   
Colin stood rooted to the ground, still unable to believe the boy.....the man....had survived until Silas, in his trek around the pit toward the ramp, hooked an arm into his, pulling him along.  
“We must welcome Fen as one of us, hurry!”  
Colin stumbled, regained his footing and started to run. Below them, Thor was standing ankle deep in the mud, his hands on Fen's shoulders, a smile splitting his face. The rest of the men were piling into the pit to touch the dead auroch and congratulate their fellow man. After the last part of the ceremony, the men would pull the dead auroch up the ramp with their horses, tie it to a large travois and haul it to the manor. From there they would take it to the palace where a public feast would be made in Fen's honor within the next few days. Tonight however, was a very private affair.   
Colin wondered how Fen was still on his feet as he made his way to him and held out his hand.  
“Well done, sir. Well done.”  
Fen gave him a lopsided smile, “Thank you.”  
“You'd make quite the action hero on Midgard, ya know.”  
“Do not give him grand ideas,” Loki put his hand on Fen's arm.  
“Trust me,” Colin looked about the group of men shaking hands, laughing, “Were I him. I'd stay right where I am.”

 

Fen felt his skin grow hotter and hotter still as the flames grew close, warming his buttocks like the afterglow of a sharp slap. He closed his eyes, hands behind his head, teeth clenched as the torch passed quickly between his spread legs and back again.   
“You have slain the great auroch! Now you are purified, transformed by bravery, transformed in light from the fire of life. You are a boy no longer, you are a man,” Loki tossed the torch into the bonfire, clasping Fen's forearm, “Well done, my son, very well done.”  
Loki turned to the men standing about the bonfire, “Now let us dress and ride to the manor to celebrate. My wife waits to see the man her son has become!”


	41. 41

The house was fair vibrating with activity. Every inch of the long table in the dining hall was covered with all manner of foodstuffs. Fresh bread, rolls, lefse, venison roasts, chicken, fish chowder, smoked fish, new potatoes, skyr, fruit, cheeses. Ewers of hard cider, ale crowded the dishes for space on the table. Women sat upon the divan in the sitting room, talking, while the children played about. A burst of laughter pervaded the kitchen but Eidra could barely concentrate.   
Every movement in the doorway, every word overheard caught her attention, making her heart race. Were the men arrived? Was Fen leading the pack? Would they bring her first born son home to rest on a bier? She shut her eyes, put a hand above her heart.   
“Hey, come on out to the dining room and join the ladies.”  
Eidra opened her eyes. Jane stood there before her in the empty kitchen, “Come on. It's fun to watch your cook fuss over the food....every time someone sneaks a bite, he's on them like a shot...”  
Eidra gave her a quick smile but shook her head, “I cannot. I can think of nothing else but Fen. They should be back by now.”  
Jane sat on the bench beside her and took her hand, “It takes time to become a man...Thor told me the feast is prepared early to show confidence that a boy will successfully complete his rite. People make merry....”  
“She's right...,” Lily stood in the doorway, Brynn on one hip, “Don't sit here waiting for the other shoe to drop...you have to show the gods you have faith in Fen,”  
“Shoe...to drop?” Eidra tilted her head as Lily chuckled, “I know, I know....you do not ken...”  
“Well I do not....,”  
Lily walked over to Eidra, taking her arm, “It means don't sit here anticipating the worst. Now put a smile on your face and sail into the room with all the positivity you don't feel.”  
“Now that makes no sense whatsoever.”   
“Come on,” Lily hauled Eidra's arm until she rose to her feet, “Trust me, they're on their way.”

Eldred sat on the front doorstep, cleaning the dirt from beneath his fingernails with the tip of his knife by the light of the lantern hanging above the lintel. Hal had charged him with listening for the return of the men so he could tell the others before they arrived. He shivered, pulling his cloak tighter about his shoulders. Winter was on its way.   
After the men returned and he was finished seeing the horses penned up, he would go to the kitchen door and be given a share of the feasting, likely sitting with Gretten and his woman... Eldred giggled at the thought....they believed they were being so secretive about their little tryst....his mother had been wrong all along. Midgardian women were no different than....  
Eldred glanced up the drive toward the road, listening, sure he'd heard the whinny of a horse, faint on the breeze. He stood up, holding his breath, peering into the darkness. Nothing. And yet...He trotted off the steps into the dooryard, looked to his right. Down the road, between the trees and brush, he caught a glimpse of one torch, then another and another, heard at last the thunder of horses hooves.  
Eldred twisted about, stumbled to the ground, leaped up to race for the front door.

 

Eidra stood frozen in the archway of the dining hall.  
“They are coming!” Eldred cried to the guest filled room, “I see their torches, they ride hard!”  
“See!” Jane put her arm around Eidra's shoulders, “Nothing to worry about. Sounds like you've got another man in the house.”  
Eidra crossed her arms before her stomach. She felt as if she would purge.  
“Go greet them,” she rasped, “Bid my son come straightaway to me.”  
Eldred bowed as he scrambled for the door, “Your will be done, Milady.”

With Hal fast upon his heels, Eldred threw the front door open. The canopy of trees hanging high over the road into the dooryard were lit like daytime with the light from the torches, the rumble of horses at full gallop now coupled with the shouts, bellows of the men driving them forward. Eldred joined them with a whoop, heard the laughter of women behind him, clapping of hands as the horde filled the dooryard, horses prancing about, nostrils flaring, hooves pawing at the ground. Eldred rushed up to the first horse, stepped back in surprise as a disheveled, filthy boy dismounted, grabbing him by the shoulders.  
“Eldred! I have returned whole!”  
“Master Fenris! By the gods, I did not know you!” Eldred reached for Agathon's reins, “Nor, I wager, shall your mother! She asked me to send you directly to her.”  
By now, Loki had dismounted as well, followed by a dozen and half over again, some leading their horses down the path to the paddock. At a smile and a nod from Loki, Eldred took Lightning's reins leading the two horses along the path with the others.  
“Congratulations, Master Fenris!” he called over his shoulder, all at once sickeningly hungry. He started off on a trot, the horses following suit toward their own reward for a night's work well done.

 

Eidra clenched her hands together at her chest, lips pressed to her knuckles as the front door swung wide, letting in a raucous flow of husbands, sons, uncles, friends. She moved forward into the sitting room where the men were gathering before the fire.  
“Let him through, let the man through!” Thor cried as she stood on tiptoe, peering into the center of the crowd. As Fen emerged with Loki at his side, tears of relief wet her cheeks. She was proud, so very proud of her son, her little boy. She choked back a sob, covered her mouth when Fen turned toward her and held a hand in the air, “Hold, please.”  
He made his way out of the circle to stand before her. All at once she was struck by how tall he'd grown. The top of his head was level with her nose. He would equal his father in height one day, she was sure of it.  
“Mother...”  
But the rest of his words were lost in her embrace.  
“Oh Fen, do not break my heart so thoroughly,” she murmured, “Mother I may be here and now but I could not bear it ere I never heard Mama cross your lips again.”  
Fen smiled, hugged her tighter, whispering in her ear, “Fear not. You will always be...Mama,”  
“Oh my son. I am so proud of you!” she stepped back to regard him, “but you are a mess! Do you not wish to run upstairs and change your tunic in the very least?”  
“It is all part of the rite,” came a soft voice in her ear and she turned to see her husband, smiling, smudged paint a cacophony of color across his cheeks amid spatters of mud, his blue green eyes luminous, dark hair in disarray, “We will be clean again soon enough.”  
She held his gaze for a long moment, the unspoken intensity of the exchange coursing across her skin.  
She would have him tonight.  
He smiled, whirled about to melt back into the throng who were now starting to sing as the mead began to flow in earnest.  
“Feel better?”   
Eidra nodded turned to Jane, “There are no words..,”  
“You don't need words. I can see it. Let's go help the ladies. The men are going to fall on the food like pigs in a trough.”  
“Indeed.” With one more backward glance at her husband and her young man, she followed Jane into the dining room.

 

Colin glanced at his watch. Three-fifteen in the morning. He looked down the row at the line of men, sitting on the ground, their backs to the outer kitchen wall and he sighed. This was going to be an all-nighter.   
He leaned his head back against the cold stone, staring up at the sky. The clouds had cleared away, leaving the firmament a-glitter with stars. He shivered, pulled his cloak tighter around him, thankful they'd not been required to spend the remainder of the evening in their birthday suits.  
“It was a right rousing display you put on, Fen,” Thor rumbled. There was the gurgling sound of a jug being raised, the slosh as it was passed down the line.  
“Thank you, your Majesty.”  
Colin glanced at Fen, seated beside him, “Aye, had me nearly tumbling over the edge of the pit to see you dodge about.”  
“Mmmm,” Silas mumbled, “....recall my pass....uhn...age....was late...”  
Colin peered down the line at the silhouette of Silas, “Late?”  
Silas was silent for a moment, “When I reached my twelfth season.....events took me on a different tack. When I began to train for the Royal Guards, I was given my rite. Imagine fighting such a ferocious beast with nothing save your dagger.”  
There were murmurs of assent throughout the line.  
“My great grandfather became a man with naught save his own two hands,” Garik grunted, “And a length of rope.”  
Colin leaned forward to look up the line at Thor, “ And yer Majesty. I can't imagine they made it easy for you did they?”  
“Ah no.”   
Colin could hear the mirth in his voice, waited for him to divulge more but he only took another swig of the jug nestled between his legs.  
Colin gazed over the top of Fen's head at Loki, “And you, yer Highness? What about it?”  
Loki stared down at his mug, “Mmm.... what about it, indeed.”  
Thor gave a snort, “Tell him, Loki. There is little need for modesty here. In fact, protocol demands pride in your defining moment.”  
When Loki remained mute, however, Thor continued on, “I daresay though I far outstrip my brother in strength, he makes up for his shortcomings in bravery....or perhaps sheer determination.”  
“Or dumb luck,” Loki muttered, swirling the cider about in his mug.  
Thor clapped Loki hard on the shoulder, “ 'Twas not luck.....perhaps not so much as you believe,” Thor waved an unsteady hand before Loki's face, pointing at Colin, “The auroch had him pinned. A giant of an animal it was. At least as big as Fen's and my brother has always been thin, agile. He looked like a white spider down there in the pit, I swear all arms and legs....,”  
Colin chanced a glance at Loki who had a faraway look in his eyes.  
“.....and this beast knocks him down, stands over him and drives his horn right through Loki's left arm, just below his shoulder. Splintered the bone and oh did he roar but here is where the luck comes in....Loki is right handed. The beast raised his head to strike again,” Thor mimicked two horns with his hands atop his head, “...but Loki rolled free, carried by rage, drove his sword into the auroch's breast. Even after the animal had succumbed to the mortal injury, Loki stood above it, driving his sword home again and again until Father pulled him away....”  
“A true berzerker,” came a comment down the line, the others grunting their assent.   
Loki raised his head, turned to Colin, “And what of you, my friend? How does one mark becoming a man on Midgard? Surely not with such a ritual as ours.”  
Colin laughed aloud, drained his mug, “Ah no. My rite of passage, if you will,was stealing a bottle of Black Bush whiskey from me Da's secret stash at the tender age of fifteen and taking off with a bunch of friends to get piss drunk. Downed about half until the guards found us in an old abandoned cottage. Soon's the cold air hit me, I dowsed one of them with a half gallon of Ireland's finest....”  
“Huh, 'tis a strange custom.....sounds a bit like the dwarves with their drinking ceremony...,” Garik mumbled, belched, “An' so you were then a man?”  
Colin smiled to himself, “So I thought, or as near to one as I would get at that age. Honestly? , the year I joined the agency was the year I became a man...the year I grew up.”  
“And how old were you then?” Garik pointed a wavering finger at him.  
“I joined the agency at the ripe old age of nineteen, fresh out of school.”  
“Nineteen?!” Thor roared, “You did not become a man until you were nineteen? Odin's beard!”  
The kitchen door opened and Gretten poked his head out, “Begging your pardon, your Majesty. The Queen requests your presence.”  
Thor hauled himself unsteadily to his feet, with a flourish of his hand, “I have been summoned...by....the summoner....nineteen, the gods wept!”  
There was laughter from the assembly which grew louder as Thor stumbled backward, slipping on the wet grass.  
Loki rose from the line, taking one of Thor's meaty arms, draping it over his shoulder and steering him to the kitchen doorstep, “Come now, you royal oaf. You are going to bash your head upon the steps.”   
Fen quickly followed suit, running to his uncle's aid though his height set the drunken king slightly off balance.  
One by one, the men struggled to their feet. Colin stood, stretched as his muscles protested, “I'll be turning in now, myself, I suppose.”  
There were calls of “good eve,” and “rest well,” as he made his way into the manor behind Loki, Fen and Thor. As he passed through the kitchen and into the dining room, he nodded to the ladies, the men who'd remained inside, scanned the crowd for Brenna who seemed to have retired early then trudged up the stairs to his bedchamber. He stood looking at the bed, considered changing, asking for some fresh water to be brought up so he could have a wash before he laid down.  
“Fuck it,” he muttered to the room. Vesta would likely give him hell for getting the linens dirty but he'd make it up to her. He flopped onto the mattress, face down and was asleep in seconds.

 

Every bump they hit along the rutted road caused the coins to jingle in the pouch tied at Eris' waist. She edged further to the other side of the wagon seat, watching the scenery amble by.   
“Gonna be a right mess in the city,” Fish muttered, “I despise this time of year..”  
 _Despise...what a big word from such a small mind_ ,“Oh quit your bitching,” Eris glanced over at him, “Why didn't you tell the fat ass to do it himself?”  
“Bard? The lazy troll's pizzle....it was up to him, we'd never get our share of the tributes...”  
“Tributes?” for a moment she was confused, caught as she'd been, daydreaming.  
“Where do you come from. It's Mabon isn't it?” Fish had snorted at her confusion, “Time to get drunk on the King's payroll.”  
“Right....Mabon.....right.”  
Fish rolled his bloodshot eyes to the sky, “Twit. So you got that fat pouch with you eh?”  
Eris patted it again, “Yup.”  
“What'll you do with it?”  
Eris gazed at the tall spires of the city looming higher as they neared, “Maybe buy a new dress. This one is shot to shit. Maybe some scarves for the dance. A friend of mine did a pretty hot pole dance in...,” her mind searched for a quick name. She didn't dare say Chicago. Who knew what these people had heard about Earth. She wasn't taking any chances they'd figure out where she came from. She'd been told by the hand job he came from Allsach near the border of Alfheim and Muspelheim.   
“...Allsach. She lives in Allsach...,”  
“Oooo a big town lady,” Fish spit over the side of the wagon, “They all think a fair lot of themselves....just like the Aesir...”  
Eris touched the pouch, feeling reassured by its presence. Since she'd taken to dancing a few nights a week at the Hammer and Serpent, she'd started to gain a bit of a following. Men were coming in from other towns, some from quite a bit farther, according to Bard. Places like Alfheim, Vanaheim, Muspelheim, wherever the hell they were. Travelers would come to the tavern, dry and weary from their trek and she would entertain them. Most of them would go on their merry way and regale others with stories of the beautiful seductress. Some she'd taken to her quarters when they waved a heavy pouch in front of her eyes. She'd had the surprise of her life when one of the men had produced a crude sort of condom from his pack.  
“Made from the intestines of a sheep they are,” he'd told her with a bold leer. She'd declined to try it in the politest way she knew.  
“The fuck you're going to use one of those on me!”  
Still she'd given him a fine hand job for an extra few coin but she felt no need to start up her own brothel, after all, that was what she was trying to get away from here but it couldn't hurt to pad her part with a little help, and she had. Now she was starting to make some money, enough that she felt comfortable spending a bit on herself, something she would do when they arrived in the city to collect their cask of celebratory wine from the tributes collected for an upcoming festival they'd called a blot.  
As they neared the walls of the city, there were wagons arriving from all sides, converging into the tall arched gates leading through to the main square. She pulled the hood of her cloak up over her head, earning a puzzled look from Fish.  
“Christ, all these people are here to grab their share of a nice Chianti? Damn shit must be scarce.”  
“You don't never make sense do you,” Fish waved at the exodus they were now caught up in, “The King collects tributes from each town in the realm in the form of wine or mead from the finest vineyards, the best brewers in the realms and they redistribute it to the people as a blessing for Mabon. The King and his family are always on hand to give out the goods.”  
“Finally, a better class of people,” Eris mumbled as they drew closer to the gates.

 

“Look at them,” Loki sighed, “This will take all day and a goodly chunk of the evening.”  
Eidra slipped her arm around his, “My love. 'Tis but once a year. Look how eager Fen is to help.”  
Fen stood at the bottom of the palace steps watching the wagons, carts, wheelbarrows heading to the line of wagons laden with spirits at the far end of the plaza. He would point, shove at Brenna who stood beside him, whisper something to her, they would continue to observe.  
“Indeed he is....foolish boy...”  
“Loki,” she gasped, “Allow him to be proud of his place in the royal family and do not let him hear you call him a boy!”  
Loki patted her hand as Thor stepped down even with him, “Come let us make our way to the wagons so we may begin.”  
The royal guards waiting at the bottom of the steps stood to attention, forming a moving pathway as they parted the sea of people.  
“Stay close to your sister!” Eidra called to Fen.  
“And so it is up to you to treat him as a babe in arms then,” Loki teased, giving her arm a playful squeeze.  
Eidra smiled, cocked her head, “Hush, you little imp.”

 

Eris stared about the throngs of people. The little shops, tents, food vendors, families with children in tow, a tavern or two, the roads leading out of the plaza through other arched gates deeper into the walled city. Her nose was assaulted by a hundred different delicious scents, cooking that smelt a sight better than what she was forced to endure in the Hammer and Serpent. Perfumes, dried flowers, fruit. Her mouth started to water at the thought of a ripe red apple. Fruit was decidedly not one of the food groups served at the tavern.   
“After we get the wine, I want to visit some of the vendors,” she leaned over the edge of the wagon, groaning as she drew in the odor of something akin to fresh apple pie.  
“This isn't shop day now is it? Bard said fetch the wine and be back before the evening rush.” Fish tapped the reins as the horses started forward to fill the gap ahead of them.  
“Shit, you know what, you're a damn shyster. What'll it take to let me buy a couple things and if you say a visit to my bed you can go fuck yourself...”  
Fish cocked a bushy eyebrow, grabbed at his crotch, “Mmm, shyster says you, if it means I'm used to being paid for favors then you're right says I.”  
“Oh hell no. I'll take a day off during the week to do my shopping instead, thank you!”  
“Hang yourself then,” Fish spat at her, “You're a right bitch you are!”   
“I'm particular but I'm not unreasonable,” Eris unlaced the pouch at her waist, dug into it and pulled out two silver coins, “Is this enough?”  
“Dunno...” Fish held out his hand, “It isn't a ride but it'll do.”  
Instead of Eris dropping the coins into his hand, however, she deposited them back in her pouch, “Deal but not until we leave the city and I've bought my things. Then I'll pay you.”  
“You're a right bitch you know that? Very well, but it'll cost you three silver by then.”  
Eris nodded, “Then it's settled. We'll get the wine and I buy some time.”

 

The cheering of the crowd at Thor's declaration was deafening .   
“The baby's doing flips,” Jane groaned in Eidra's ear, “Trying to get away from all this noise I bet.”  
“As would I. Cait was the same way. It was quite humorous actually. She would jump at the sound of Loki's voice as she grew. We would lay there in bed, he would lean in close, say some little thing to my belly and she would kick each and every time. After she was born, she would turn her head at the sound of Loki's voice when he came into the room as if determined to listen to him, give him her full attention.”  
“Was Brenna just the opposite?” Jane elbowed her.   
Eidra smiled gamely, forgiving Jane's forgetfulness with a polite answer.  
“So it would seem.”

 

Eris stood up, peering over the heads of the crowd to where everyone seemed focused. There at the head of the line of wagons stood a small group of people flanked by armored guards holding nasty looking pikes. The group had to be the royal family. She could barely see the tops of their heads.  
“I'm going to get a better look,” Eris jumped down from the wagon into the surging throng as Fish yelled to her.  
“You get lost and you're walking back to the tavern! Hey!”  
Eris elbowed her way forward. He'd be right behind her. How lost could she get? She looked over her shoulder and had a moment of panic as it took her time to find Fish's ugly pinched face and scarecrow frame perched atop the wagon seat. She renewed her effort to move ahead, catching glimpses of the blond mane of the King, Thor, one of the heroes of the attack on New York.   
She'd been too young, too busy trying to survive her own childhood to notice him then but now she was quite impressed. She broke through to stand a few people deep from the group. Thor was hefting cask after cask of wine, handing them to men who stood waiting to toss them into the back of waiting wagons. As people moved out of her way and she was able to move forward, able at last to survey the rest of the group, she felt her heart crash against her rib cage. There he was, the one they'd called Loki, the man striding up the ramp when she'd first passed through the portal only now he was dressed a helluva lot nicer. All at once, the past weeks started to converge in her mind. The people in the tavern would talk of Loki, brother, royal adviser and confidant of the King but she had no idea the man she'd encountered and the brother to the King were one and the same. Yet here he was before her, and he was a goddamn prince, a prince for fuck sake. She stared hard at him as he passed a barrel of wine to a waiting pair of young men, repeating over and over in her mind as if she could turn his head,. _“Look at me.”_  
Behind him a little farther to the left,, staying clear of the action stood three beautiful women, one obviously pregnant, the other a bit older, regal looking, both of them chatting with a third, the oldest of the three who was sporting a gold and emerald necklace that looked like it'd been filched from Buckingham Palace.  
Her eyes drifted back to Loki who was now gazing up at a young boy standing atop one of the supply wagons and she noted the distinct resemblance between them. _So he makes handsome kids too_. Loki scanned the crowd once more....  
 _“LOOK AT ME!”_  
….And turned back to the boy on the wagon. Eris moved further forward, staring at his back, tempted to fade into nothing if only to get closer to him. She stared unabashed at the muscles clearly visible along his biceps as he let down another keg to a gargantuan woman.  
 _“LOOK AT ME!”_  
When the woman moved away, the keg on her back, there was nothing between them save a few feet of cobblestoned ground. His gaze stopped at Eris, only for the merest fraction of a second but it was enough. He had seen her. She waited, watched until she felt the slap of a hand on her shoulder. It was Fish.  
“Get out of the way, Odin's beard. You want to get bashed in the head with one a the barrels?”  
Fish elbowed through the space beside her, his arms outstretched and she smiled. Loki was but a few feet in front of her. He would have to hand a barrel to Fish. Surely he would notice her now. He swung about and, with a grunt, deposited a short barrel into Fish's arms.  
“Thank you, your Highness,” Fish mumbled with an abbreviated bow.  
Loki nodded first to Fish then to her. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as if he were trying to recall something, then the moment passed and he was returning to the wagons.  
Eris watched him walk over to one of the women, the regal one with the dark hair, whisper something in her ear and cup her face for a quick kiss.  
Well she'd been the other woman a good number of times. Nothing to worry about there. She fashioned a gun out of her thumb and forefinger pointed at him and mimicked pulling the trigger. That was her target, her way out of obscurity. Her mind was already working furiously at the next stage of her plan as she followed Fish back to the wagon. So absorbed was she with ideas, she almost forgot to take in the vendors tents, tossing the silver coins to a petulant Fish at the last minute before making her way through the crowds to spend a bit of her hard earned money.

By the time they exited the main city gates he sun was low in the sky and they were two well sated tavern employees. She'd found two fine dresses to fill out her wardrobe. When the vendor had tried to sell her some bolts of cloth as well, saying she could get another good dress out of them, she'd laughed so hard she'd almost pissed herself. She might have had to learn to baste a seam or two in the time she'd spent here but she couldn't sew to save her life. She'd found a number of silk scarves too that would suit her new dance number just fine. Besides the three silver coins she'd paid Fish she also bought them a whole roast chicken and an apple cake to share in the bargain so the trip back to the tavern was quite pleasant. They even kidded back and forth in a rare show of camaraderie.  
That evening as she lay on her cot, she mulled over, in her mind, the next phase of her plan. She would work here at the Hammer and Serpent a bit longer, earning more coin, gaining more reputation then she would set out for the city itself, bringing her notoriety along with her. She would then find employment in a better establishment within the city walls, closer to the palace. Eventually either through her fame or her talents, she would find a way inside, like a virus and she would make Loki hers.


	42. 42

It was heading toward midnight when they reached the manor, exhausted but in good spirits. Inside, the atmosphere was a bit more somber. Sally and Helgi were in the sitting room in the chairs before a low fire. In her lap, Sally held a dozing Brynn, his head tilted back, mouth agape as she cradled him in her arms.  
“He woke from a bad dream and had an attack,” Helgi shook her head, “Astrid was in a panic but we calmed her down, put her back to bed and brought him downstairs.”  
Eidra lifted Brynn from Sally's arms, the boy's body spasming as his arms flew forward to wrap around her neck. She could hear the rattle in his chest as he sighed in his sleep and she held him to her.  
“Did you give him his elixir?” Loki put his hand at the boy's back, distressed. He could feel each breath from his son's taxed lungs and he hated himself for his next thought. Brynn would never survive the rite of passage, not in his present state of health. He would have to petition the High Council to forgo the trial of the auroch. It had been done in the past for those boys who were similarly stricken with ill health or disability but boys who were granted this privilege were ofttimes looked down upon as half men, considered weak, cowardly.  
“First thing,” Sally piped up, “The poor dear was crying for ye, Eidra. He kept saying, “Mama makes me better,”...”  
“I knew I should have remained here today,” Eidra kissed Brynn's sweat slicked brow and he grunted, “He was coughing when we left. I fear he is sick again.”  
“How much can one body take?” Helgi clucked her tongue, “And him not yet five seasons.”  
“Helgi!” Sally cried, “Ye invite the evil eye, ye do!”  
Helgi pressed her fingertips to her lips, “I meant no ill wishes, the gods wept! Eidra, forgive me.”  
She was tired, worried and in a fit of pique she wanted to yell at the woman she thought of as her mother, wanted to tell her to take back what she'd said. Instead she gave Helgi a grim smile.   
“I know you did not. I worry as much as do you. Helgi,” she shifted Brynn to a new position on her hip.  
“Another attack?”   
Brenna had come into the sitting room behind them.  
“Yes.”  
Loki held his arms out, “Let me take him. I will carry him up the stairs.”  
He lifted Brynn from her as Helgi held up a hand, “And the bottle of elixir is well nigh gone. You will need another before long.”  
“I will tell Colin on the morrow,” Loki assured her as they headed toward the stairs, “Back to bed, the two of you. You have done more than is expected. Thank you for that.”  
“Go on with ye,” Sally waved a hand as she rose slowly to her feet, “Yer family. Wouldn't do any less now would we?”  
Brenna lent her hand to Helgi who pulled herself to stand, leaning on her cane, “No we would not,”   
As Sally and Helgi shuffled toward the foyer, Brenna turned and headed for the kitchen. It had been some time between the evening meal at the palace and the drive home and she was craving a mug of buttermilk to settle her stomach.   
The kitchen was mostly dark save a dim light at the other end of the long room cast by the lantern in Gretten's chamber. There were voices coming from inside, likely Gretten and Beth talking over the next day's menu. Mabon was a small blot but her father liked to have a grand evening meal complete with the choicest wines he'd procured from the provinces.  
Unwilling to disturb them, she climbed upon a step stool, eased open one of the cupboards and fetched down a cup trying her best to make do with the scant light. She tiptod up to the door leading to the cold cellar below the manor but at an exclamation from Beth, she paused. She should've kept going into the cellar, poured her buttermilk and gone to bed and she knew it. Listening in on private conversations was frightfully rude, nevertheless, she stood there straining to hear their conversation.

“I don't care what anyone says. All I need is a mug of spiced cider to celebrate the holiday.”  
Gretten rolled his eyes, “I was raised on hard cider, mead and spring water from the time I took my first steps....,”  
“And my grandmother was raised on moonshine....the point I'm trying to make is that alcohol in any form is dangerous for the baby....and really? Why are you so worried about it?” Beth crossed her arms, plopping down into the wooden chair beside Gretten's bed, watching as Gretten rubbed his bald head....

Brenna's eyes grew wide as she inched closer to the door, the buttermilk completely forgotten.

 

….“I told you, because everyone has a glass of the wine for the blot, my pet. What will they say when you refuse to toast?”  
Beth looked up at Gretten, “I'll tell them I don't like wine...”   
Gretten sat down on his bed, stared at the floor, “I suppose,”  
“...or I could tell them I'm forgoing all alcohol from here on in because I'm pregnant..”  
“I suppose,”  
Beth kicked at his foot, “Now you're just not listening to me.”  
“Yes I am.”Gretten looked up at her,   
Beth put her head back to stare up at the ceiling,”So you think we should come clean with this? We've discussed it before and frankly I'm tired of rehashing why that's not a good thing....,”  
“Why must we clean anything? Were we not talking about the baby?”  
Beth smacked a hand to her forehead, “Gretten, remember what I taught you about figures of speech?...”

 

Brenna backed away from the door, setting the mug gently down on the counter as she headed for the kitchen doorway. She was just able to slip around the wall in the dining room when she heard Gretten's door bang against the kitchen wall.  
“Do not go to bed mad, Beth.”  
“I'm not!.....I'm not....I'm just....worried.”  
Brenna glided across to the archway into the sitting room, willing Beth to keep talking but it was not to be as she reached the archway into the foyer and heard a harsh whisper behind her.  
“Who's there?”  
Maybe Beth didn't see her. The dining hall was large and it was dark. The glowing embers of the dying fire in the sitting room afforded scant illumination so perhaps if she just kept going...  
“Brenna?”  
She ground her teeth together, took a deep breath and turned around, “Yes....yes we....that is...we meaning us....Mother and Father and the others....we just arrived home..”  
“I thought I heard something out in the kitchen but I assumed or rather I hoped it was a mouse. It was you wasn't it?”  
Brenna nodded, “I craved some buttermilk before I turned in and so I went into the kitchen to pour a mug....”  
Beth clasped her hands before her, “Then I think you forgot something.”  
Brenna blinked. Forgot what? “Oh...oh yes I did....how careless of me. I would get all the way upstairs to my bedchamber and have to come all the way back downstairs again...,” she started toward the kitchen, past Beth, “thank you for reminding me...really....you have saved me another trip...”  
She had reached the middle of the dining room when Beth's small voice stopped her in her tracks.   
“It's a wonder the whole household doesn't know, honestly.”  
Brenna glanced over her shoulder, all pretense of ignorance wiped away, “How did it happen?Ah…...perhaps 'tis the wrong way to word it.”  
Beth's shoulders slumped and Brenna at once felt sorry for her.  
“Though you may not expect it, my being but twenty seasons, I have a sympathetic ear belying my age,” Brenna gestured to the chairs in front of the fireplace, “Would you care to talk?”

 

Brenna's hands paused at the laces of her corset and she sorely wished Vesta was still awake to attend to her.   
Pregnant, Beth was pregnant. By Gretten. Truth be told, she wasn't quite sure what was more of a shock, the fact itself or the dwarf....to whom this new life could be attributed.   
She lay the corset on her dressing table chair, reveling in the freedom of her unconfined breasts.  
There had been no tears as Brenna had expected. Rather Beth was quite stoic about her situation. She loved Gretten, there was no doubt in her mind. She felt this opportunity to come to Asgard had been fate. She and Gretten had been discussing the possibilities of what would happen when her six months were up, whether he would request permission to accompany her back to Midgard or whether she would be allowed to stay on in Asgard. Brenna shuddered at the thought of Gretten being stranded on Midgard, how they would treat him as a freak, or worse as a novelty to be paraded about like a celebrity, what would he do when he saw his first car or plane?  
Brenna slipped her nightgown over her head and crawled beneath the covers to sink into the feather mattress of her bed. The nights were getting colder now, the harvest at an end. She leaned over to her nightstand, turning down the wick in the lantern.  
She had promised she would keep Beth's condition a secret though she did confess the whole household seemed to know of their budding relationship. She could not say for sure whether her parents knew, however. If they did, they'd not told her. Still, Brenna admitted it was no surprise. Anyone could see Beth and Gretten were enamored of each other. Fate certainly did seem to know what it was doing when it paired them together. The only thing to do now was wait and see what would happen when Beth's time was up...and hope fate didn't plan on playing tricks.

 

“Loki, did you not hear me?”  
Loki turned to Eidra who was pointing past him to the lantern on the bedstand.  
“I asked you to turn down the lamp twice and you do not move an inch, only sit there with your arms crossed.”  
He gave Eidra a half smile which swiftly faded, “Forgive me. I am thinking over the day's events.”  
Eidra lay back on her pillow, gazing up at his silhouette, “Mmmm, anything in particular?” At the feast he'd had the same faraway look in his eyes but she'd not ventured to ask why, so caught up in the ceremony and feasting were they. Brenna had stayed by her side a large part of the time, much to her delight. They'd laughed and gossiped and chatted with Jane and Lily. Even Frigga had joined them for a good long while. She'd had such a wonderful time, she'd payed scant attention to Loki or his whereabouts. Now she felt guilty. Perhaps he'd felt left out.  
“Ah, 'tis nothing....I think...,” he rubbed his chin, “I am trying to recall someone...”  
“Oh?” She rose onto her elbow, “Who?”  
Loki slipped down further to the pillow and rolled to his side to face her, “Do you recall the woman who was staring at me?”  
With a maddening stab of jealousy, she narrowed her eyes at him, “Which one? There are many whose eyes linger far too long upon you for my taste.”  
Either he missed the jab or chose to ignore it as he tapped his forehead with a finger, “The dark haired woman at the wagons..”  
“Loki, you cannot expect me to recall every woman who laid eyes upon you, surely. I would have time for nothing else were I occupied thus.”  
This time he looked up at her, “Come now. As I am often at my brother's side, it cannot be determined for certain who they stare at. Likely enough it is the blond oaf, the handsome King.”  
“I know what I see,” she drew a finger down the hollow of his throat, “You must be more specific.”  
He turned to his back, his eyes to the ceiling, “I was helping hand out the barrels of wine and mead. You were standing, speaking with the Queen. The woman came to the front of the line and boldfaced stared at me. She had long black hair, blue eyes...”  
“She sounds lovely,” Eidra muttered.  
“....dressed quite like a serving wench. She kept her eyes upon me so intently I was moved nearly to address her.”  
“But you thought better of it...,” she kicked at his leg, paused, “Was she wearing a red and black dress?”  
Loki pointed to her, “Aha, so you did see her..”  
Eidra grimaced. She had observed the woman moving, shifting with the crowd, following her husband's every step, her mouth open in anticipation each time Loki would come near.  
“What of her?”  
Loki sat up in bed, hands out before him, “I have seen her before. I am certain.”  
“So?” Eidra was becoming irritated. He'd been thinking about this wench all evening and had said nothing of it? “You have seen many of the women there many times. It is a traditional event. Every season people attend, the same people who attended the season before and the season before that.”  
Loki shook his head, “No...no, I have seen her face. In a painting perhaps?” he slammed his fists on the covers across his legs, “ 'Tis maddening!”  
Eidra let the silence grow until he turned to her, “Have you fallen asleep?”  
Eidra stared at him until he sighed, “You are angry with me.”  
“Why would I be angry?”  
“I confess I do not know..,”  
“You do not......no of course you do not. Were I myself being regarded as a filly at breeding season, would you not take the man to task...?”  
“Indeed,”  
“But I cannot be angry at this whore for coveting my husba...mmmph....!”  
He had stopped her words with his mouth. She shoved at his chest, once, twice, her arms finally sliding beneath his as she pulled him tighter to her, arching against him, wanting to bite his tongue as he smiled against her lips.   
“Even after so long together, you are yet jealous of any attention paid me by another woman. I am flattered. It drives me into a frenzy of lust to know you still desire to have me entirely to yourself.”  
“To the exclusion of all others,” she rasped, pulling him back down to her, “I shall drive all thoughts of that wench from your mind tonight.”  
“Of this,” he nuzzled at her neck, “I have no doubt.”

 

“Colin?”   
Cait had taken hold of the cuff of his coat and was now tugging on it.  
“Yes, sweetheart..”  
“Astrid is in the kitchen.”  
Colin shook his head, called out, “Found her!”  
Eidra strode through the sitting room, past Syngen who rolled his eyes.  
“You little imp!” Colin heard Eidra scold Astrid, “This is no time to play hide and seek!”  
Colin felt his leg gripped by two small hands. He looked down to see Brynn peering around him toward the dining room archway.  
“Aye, little man. Safer here than with yer sister.”  
Loki and Fen emerged from the foyer, Loki in his court dress, Fen in a more subdued but fine set of garments.  
“Where was she?”  
“In the kitchen, hiding,” Helgi grunted from the rocking chair, “Such bad manners on such an important day.”  
“Ah, she's a babe,” Colin reached down, patting Brynn's head, “In my opinion, the artist is going to have a time getting everyone to sit still. I should offer to take a snapshot and let him go from there.”  
Helgi regarded him curiously, “Snap...shot? Do you mean the small...not paintings....Brenna brought home from Midgard?”  
“Aye, I do.”  
Helgi tamped her cane on the floor, “Nothing will match the beauty of an artist's hand to canvas.”  
Colin thought to show Helgi some of the beautiful photos he'd taken with a simple tablet but decided he'd save such a lesson for another day. It was going to get pretty hectic very soon.  
Brenna entered the sitting room, carrying a crying Astrid on her hip, Eidra following along behind, begging the toddler to stop her tears.  
Cait meanwhile was twirling about, watching the skirt of her violet dress flare around her legs.  
Colin wandered over to Syngen who was mixing his paints from small bottles, the pungent putty like scent of linseed oil hanging about him like a shroud. Every once in a while, the artist would glance at Loki and his family, grunt, shake his head and peer at the canvas as if trying to imagine the painting that would eventually grace it.  
Colin couldn't help but be reminded of Master LaPaine, his old art teacher in secondary school right down to the reed thin frame and pinched, overly serious countenance.  
At yet another grunt from Syngen, Colin sighed, “Kids, eh?”  
“Spoiled...,” Syngen wrinkled his hawkish nose, “...look at them, running about like wild beasts, paying no attention to their mother and father...the Prince asks of me an impossible task...”  
Colin rocked back and forth on his heels, “You've never painted children before then?”  
Syngen turned from his palette to glare at Colin, “Of all the inane questions! I have been painting portraits since I was all of ten seasons.”  
“Mmm, a child prodigy?”  
Syngen raised a weak eyebrow, “Whatever do you mean?”  
A sharp word from Loki halted the conversation momentarily. They glanced at the assemblage to see Loki squatting before a petulant Cait.  
“Ah, I mean you were quite talented at an unusually young age.”  
Syngen's narrow chest puffed out so that it almost parted the lapels of his coat, “Indeed I was.”  
 _Arrogant ass_! “Then you'll have had plenty of experience with such a group.”  
At this, Syngen's face darkened, finally grasping what Colin had been trying to infer, “...and my work is always outstanding despite the uncooperative nature of the subject matter.”  
“Master Syngen,” Loki was striding toward them, “While the children are altogether in the same general area do tell us how we should be arranged.”  
As if the sun had emerged from behind a dark cloud, Syngen smiled, his face transformed from miserable old buzzard to fresh faced hawk as he bowed deeply, “Certainly, your Highness. I have the perfect setting.”  
Much as Colin hated to admit it, while he watched Syngen work, it became clear the artist was every bit the genius he proclaimed to be. He'd arranged the family around the settee in the center of the sitting room, taking advantage of the natural light streaming in through the tall windows. Loki and Eidra took the primary positions, Eidra sitting, Loki standing behind her, their brood gathered around them. Helgi who was seated beside Brenna held a proud look upon her wrinkled face.  
His basic sketch upon the canvas was quick and light, capturing everyone in the moment, filling in with color, dabs of light here and there until the assembly started to take shape right before Colin's eyes.  
Finally, Syngen stepped out from behind the canvas, “You may all move about now, though I ask that you remain in the room for any minor corrections I may require.”  
The children fell to their toys, Brynn rolling a leather ball back and forth with Astrid until they grew restless. Cait sat quietly playing with Fen's old wooden animals, every so often bemoaning the fact that Edie could not be present to play with her. Once in a while, Syngen would take one of the children, lead them to the settee, placing them in the position they'd been in, frown, move about, return to the canvas.  
When the room started to grow heavy with shadows as the sun rose high in the sky, Syngen set his brush down on the lip of the easel, “You may all disperse. Your light has faded...you, however,” he turned to Colin, “...will follow me. Where is the other Midgardian?” Syngen fairly spat, “The woman?”  
“In the kitchen,” Colin growled, “Shall I fetch her?” He had to fight with himself not to throw Syngen the finger, genius or not.  
“No, no, not yet. I will do her last. Let us work on you..”

 

By the time Syngen had packed up his paints, drop cloths, brushes, the evening meal was nearly ready. Loki invited him to stay for the meal purely out of politeness though he respectfully declined.  
As the door closed behind Syngen, it seemed as though the collective household let out a deep sigh of relief.  
“Insufferable,” Eidra groaned as she sank into one of the dining table chairs, “I cannot fathom having to sit again and again for such an odious man.”  
“Mmm,” Loki lifted Astrid to his hip, “Only think of how beautiful the painting will look above the sitting room fireplace.”  
Eidra sat back in the chair, “And what shall we do with your portrait?”  
“Return it to the library or burn it for all of me. It is a relic from a forgotten era.”  
Before he could walk away, Eidra tugged at the hem of his coat, “We will do no such thing. We shall hang it in our bedchamber. I quite like it.”  
“But my heart, you have the real thing,” he winked at her, “however, if you so wish to keep it, I will have it brought upstairs. Now let us repair to the dining hall, I am famished.”  
As everyone began to move toward the scent of roast pig wafting from the dining table, Brynn thrust his arms high to Brenna.  
“Up Bren!”  
“Because Astrid is carried, you believe you must be as well, lazy boy,” Brenna sighed though she bent down to lift him up. He reached around her neck to haul himself upward, snaring his fingers into the Uruz's leather cord and with a quick tug, the cord gave way.   
The medallion tumbled forward over the bodice of her dress, slipping into the air between her and Brynn to hit the floor with a clack and a wobbly roll, the cord lengths trailing after it.  
“Oh I knew the cord needed to be replaced!” Brenna cried, “Where did it go?”  
At once, everyone had their eyes to the floor, searching frantically. Cait crawled on her hands and knees to peer beneath the rocking chairs.  
Colin bent down, trying to see beneath the settee. A glimmer of light caught his eye and he spied the leather cord curled around one of the settee legs.   
“I've got it,” Colin called, dropping to his knees and reaching for the medallion.  
He felt the end of one frayed cord against his fingertips, curling it into his hand , pulling the medallion closer to him until he was able to draw it into his palm.   
All at once, he felt as if he were touching a live wire, twenty thousand volts coursing through his entire body, racing up his arm, stiffening his back, the fingernails of his left hand scraping the hard wood floor planks. His heart was racing dangerously fast, he could scarce catch his breath. He felt no pain, only a tremendous rush of energy. His right hand spasmed, opened and the medallion dropped back onto the floor with a clink. With a rush of relief, the feeling left him as abruptly as it had come over him.  
“Colin, did you find it?” Brenna was standing beside him now. He had to stand up, had to get to his feet. As soon as his hand neared the Uruz again, however, he could feel the surge of energy, making the hairs on his arm stand up. He groped for the leather cord instead, found it, cautiously lifting the medallion by the cord.  
“Colin?” Brenna was closer now.  
“Aye,” he rasped. He put his arm up onto the settee cushion, pushing himself to his feet, willing a smile to his face.  
“Here ya go,” Colin dropped the Uruz into Brenna's open hand, half expecting for a moment that she would drop it in shock as the rush of energy shot through her too, but she simply closed her hand around the glittering disc.  
“Thank you so much....I should have replaced the cord long ago.......Colin? You are white as milk...”  
“Oh,” Colin rubbed his chin, “The standing on me head's made me dizzy is all...,” he patted Brynn's back, “I'm fine.”  
“Nevertheless, when we get to the table, I shall pour you a mug of good mead,” Brenna squeezed his shoulder, making his head swim worse.  
“The mead will put color back in his cheeks,” Helgi added as they continued into the dining room unaware of the ripples emanating outward from the Uruz...

...to Beth who stood frozen in the kitchen, staring at her hand submerged in the hot water of the washtub, the stone in her grandmother's ring giving off a steel blue glow...

 

...to Simon, asleep on the cot in his tent, the deck prism sitting on his writing desk casting a rich green glow across the canvas walls....

 

…..and further still...

“Mamam...see, see....”  
The toddler stood pointing up at the large hutch along one wall in the dining hall, his chubby belly pressed against Marwen's shin. She bent down, lifting him to her hip, no small feat as her kept twisting and turning, waving his hand, “See! See!”  
She turned about to look at the cupboard shelves, “Whatever is it, my sweet?......oh my!”  
In its place of honor at the center of the middle shelf, sat Velos's chalice. When they had married and moved to a small castle near the border of Alfheim, Velos had personally carried the ancient carved wooden cup wrapped in black silk from his father's stronghold. It was the first object to enter the sprawling fortress through the great arched doors. Velos would use the chalice for feast days, for ceremonies, certain special occasions but otherwise it sat at the forefront of the hutch. At no time, however, had it done what it was doing now.   
From the burnished gold gilt interior came an orange yellow glow. It lit the shelves of the hutch, casting tall shadows across the long table which commanded the length of the room.  
“Mamam..see! Light...!”  
She thought to call for Chalar but she was likely downstairs in the servants quarters, she had expressed a wish to finish a dress she'd been sewing. Marwen felt rooted to the spot, watching the chalice as it grew brighter, and brighter still until the light winked out altogether and the room returned to its torchlit dusky luminance.  
“Lights out!” Maros cried mimicking Marwen's final words each night as she turned down his lantern for bed.  
Marwen walked up to the hutch, slowly reached out her hand and drew a finger around the rim of the chalice, half expecting it to start glowing again.   
“Lights out?” Maros extended a tiny hand.  
“Yes,” she looked into his coal black eyes willing Velos to return home from the hunting camps, “Lights out.”


	43. 43

Twice she started out the chamber door, twice she stopped but Trena urged her on.  
“Sometimes fate has other plans in store for us,” Trena crooked a hand around her arm as she guided her out into the hallway, “And no matter how fervently you wish to follow your chosen path, you must navigate the twists and turns along the way.”  
Lelia swallowed hard, felt the guilt fill her at the thought of how fervently she'd wished to be delivered from her current responsibilities as her aunt's protege. Perhaps Fate had heard her plea though Fate had a sadistic sense of humor if such was the case.  
“Now off with you, child..”  
They stood in the corridor, Lelia holding her satchel before her, “I'll return as soon as I can..ye need me.”  
Trena smiled, “Others need you far more than I. Waste not another thought upon it. I will find another assistant soon enough.”  
Lelia glanced up and down the corridor as if she expected a new aide to materialize before her eyes, “Not for long. I'll be back afore ye know it.”  
But Trena patted her hand, “Get you gone. 'Tis threatening ill weather...”  
Lelia hesitated only a moment longer, leaned over and planted a soft kiss on her aunt's cheek before hurrying off down the torchlit hallway.

 

“I thought you'd have tossed that ring out ages ago,” Chase held her hand, peering down at the promise ring on Brenna's finger, the dulled glitter of the emerald set in the O in LOVE winking up at him in the lantern light.  
“I could not bear to part with it no matter how mad I was with you,” Brenna lifted her hand to admire the ring. She hadn't looked at it in quite some time but something, likely the rekindling of their romance, had compelled her to take it from her jewelry box,and slip it on before she headed out to see Chase at the encampment. She twisted the ring on her finger as she had been wont to do in the days when it never left her hand.  
“It needs cleaning. It has not seen daylight in ages.”  
“I'm glad to see you're wearing it again.”  
She gave a thin smile, all she could manage at this time, leaned forward on the edge of Chase's cot, elbows on her knees.  
“Next week I go to visit Sophie at college..”  
Chase nodded, looking down at the plain carpet covering the dirt floor of his tent, “Yeah I remembered. But hey, you're coming back aren't you? Not starting any college stuff till the spring.”  
“Yes,”   
Her accompanying shrug, however didn't go unnoticed.  
“What's wrong?” Chase elbowed her, “You are going to college aren't you?”  
Brenna sat up, struggled to keep the smile upon her face but it faded into a frown, “Damnit, Chase. Why did you have to come here to Asgard?”  
“Well Jesus, I'm sorry,” Chase rose from the cot, “You want me to go home?”  
“Oh stop it, Chase. I mean if I go to college, I will be there and now you will be here...”  
Chase lifted the flap of the tent and peered down the row to the treeline. The sun was beginning to set which meant he would soon be on glorified guard duty at Longhouse One.   
“So what you mean to say is that you want to stay here with me?” he turned to her, letting the flap drop back into place just in time to catch one of the pillows she'd thrown at him from his cot.  
“You are so sure of yourself, so arrogant! You sound like my father,” she jumped up, gathering her cloak about her shoulders. If he hadn't put himself in front of the tent flap, she would have been through it and out into the afternoon sun.  
He caught her by the arms as she tried to dodge around him, “Why? Because I know what you're thinking?” Because if you didn't want to be with me, you wouldn't keep coming here?”  
She wrenched free of his grasp, brought her hand up to squeeze his cheeks, “Whether or not you are right does not mean you must shove it down my throat!”  
“Ah,” he mumbled through fished lips, “I...mas...jus...statin' a thact..”  
For a moment she stared into his eyes, her hand loosening its grip on his face until suddenly she covered his mouth with hers in a fierce kiss, her cloak dropping from her shoulders to the ground behind her.  
“I hate you,” she gasped as they stood forehead to forehead at the tent flap, arms about each other.  
“You keep saying that,” he whispered, “..but I find it harder and harder to believe.”  
She closed her eyes, moving to tuck her head beneath his chin, “One day I shall have to prove it.”

 

Kenworth covered his mouth as a burp escaped his lips. He set the half empty bowl of chili on the small table before him and peered out the windows of the small security booth into the dusky late afternoon light, surveying the outer road leading around the perimeter of the encampment, first the north side then the south side and the tree line beyond. He turned about, stared up the road behind the small booth that led through the center of the encampment past rows of tents to the two longhouses in the distance. The talk around camp of starting up the second portal had been just that, talk. Portal two was finally finished in the second longhouse but it sat there, unused, waiting for the first phase of testing to begin.  
After the fiasco with Portal One and Mister Foster's subsequent breakdown, Mister Stark had effectively lobbied the boys at home to postpone activating Portal Two and so the team brought over to assemble and monitor the second portal were left to play a waiting game, stuck in the camp, growing more bored and irritated with each day they ticked off the calendar.  
Kenworth scanned the north road, reached for the bowl of chili again. His fingertips grazed the spoon, his hand hovering in the air before it. Trotting down the road on a dark brown horse was the red headed girl from the nearby farm. Spying him, she reined in, sat there staring at the booth and for a minute, Kenworth was sure she was going to bolt through the gate into the encampment. Not taking his eyes off her, he groped for his radio as she let herself down to the ground and started toward the booth.  
Kenworth stood up, nearly stumbling out the door to meet her at the red and yellow striped bar gate stretching across the road.  
“Can I help you?” He held the radio in his hand though he'd not keyed it up yet. She was just a young woman with a horse.  
“I'm after thinking ye can. I've a need to see the Midgardian dwarf, Simon Foster.” Lelia bowed, readjusted the satchel slung around her shoulder, “I've something to show him.”  
At the title dwarf, Kenworth burst out laughing, “Well he's short but honestly I know a guy who's even shorter. Listen, Miss, I've gotta make sure it's okay with my boss alright?”  
Lelia gave him the widest grin she could manage, “Indeed. After all, I might be a spy. Or a Svartelheimer in disguise.”  
Kenworth tipped his head, “Yeah....what you said. Uh..”   
“Kenworth!” the radio squawked, “Why didn't you check in?”  
Kenworth brought the radio up, “Ah, sorry. I have a visitor,” he nodded at Lelia.  
“Well Garritty is on his way up to relieve you. Who's the visitor?”  
Kenworth turned away from Lelia, bringing the radio closer, “She's from that farm across the way. She wants to enter the camp..”  
“Did she state her business? What's her name?”  
Kenworth turned back to ask her name and found himself staring into the liquid dark eyes of the horse. The woman was nowhere to be seen.  
“Shit!”  
“Kenworth. What's her name?”  
He raced about the exterior of the booth, looked down the road leading into the encampment. In the distance, he could see Garrity heading toward the booth.  
“I'd ask her if she was here,” Kenworth replied, “But she's disappeared.”  
“Into the camp!?”  
Kenworth stared down the rows of tents, “I don't know,”  
Silence, then, “Jesus and you haven't a clue who she is? Stay there I'm going to sound general quarters.”

 

Lelia, hunkered down between the rows of water barrels, clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a scream as a dull whooping sound filled the air, listening to the sound of men shouting, the whump of tent flaps being thrown aside. Her heart hammered in her chest. Should she stay still until they'd given up searching for her or should she keep moving before they cornered her?  
“.....will search the tents. Garrity's group will cover the grounds...”  
She pressed herself tighter to the barrels, thankful the sun had finally set. If she could avoid being discovered, the only problem left would be to find Mister Foster's tent.

 

Simon looked up from the book in his hand.  
“What the devil?”  
He walked to the flap and poked his head out of the tent into the cold evening air just as Garrity reached him.  
“What's wrong?” Simon closed the book, tucking it under his arm.  
“We're looking for someone who managed to get into camp, Mister Foster...” Garrity waved him away from the tent, “Come with me,”  
“Wait a minute,” Simon held up a hand, “Come with you where?”  
Garrity pointed to the Longhouse which loomed over their heads behind them, “We were told to bring you inside to Stark's office until we find the visitor.”  
“Why me?” Simon shivered. The nights were getting colder.  
“Because,” Garrity picked his radio up out of its holder, “The visitor was asking specifically for you.”

 

Tony set the tablet down on his desk beside a tray holding the remains of the night's meal. In his last communication, Fury had stopped short of ordering him to start testing the second portal. This time he had finally said it.   
_“I order you to start test trials of that second portal, Stark. We need to know if this is a viable technology and not just a fluke. I want to be able to say, with confidence, that when we build the next portal, we can guarantee it'll work.”_  
The general quarters alarm had long been silenced. He put his elbows on the desk, dropped his chin atop his knuckles and stared at Simon who was sitting quietly across from him reading his book.  
“Kenworth said it was that girl from the farm.”  
The book in Simon's hand trembled slightly, “Indeed, so he did.”  
“She was looking for you.”  
“Ahuh.”  
“Why?”  
Simon slapped the book shut, “I've no idea. I was sitting in my tent reading. Honestly I didn't plan on entertaining tonight..”  
“When are you gonna come back to work on the portals? Fury is getting real anxious about Portal Two.”  
Simon massaged the bridge of his nose, “When I can walk into the longhouse and not feel like there's an elephant on my bloody chest!”  
“Mmm, any idea when that's gonna be?”  
Simon looked up at Tony, “The portal is together....mostly. I'm not sure why you need me so very much. You have my calculations to work from. I'd be there to babysit the technicians while they finish the task under the guidance of a very well drawn set of diagrams but you want a clear answer? Very well. A week from today. How's that for definitive?”  
Tony shrugged, “It's something,”  
“Ah god...”  
“...And I know, I know the portal isn't still in its packing crate but we have to show some progress somewhere, kiddo. Get to the test run phase. Ya know, ever since you signed up for this gig, you've been acting odder and odder. Anything you want to tell me?”  
Simon stared at the picture on the cover of the book, a lovely white archway leading into a rose filled garden, and he was reminded of his little house waiting for him back on Earth. He would need to till his plot, add mulch, maybe a little manure...  
“...I'm a good listener. Honest I am.”  
Simon shook his head, “We've been through this before..”  
Tony lay back in his chair and closed his eyes, “I'm aware of this, just humor me.”  
“Maybe I'm homesick...I don't know.”  
“...thus your leave of absence,” Tony murmured.  
They sat silent, listening to the sounds of machinery, the hum of computers, the footfalls of men walking about outside the office.  
“So..a week from today. You promise you'll try to get back on the stick?”  
Simon glanced up at him, then away, “I'll promise to try.”  
“Sounds fair to me.”  
Simon returned his attention to the book though he kept it closed, his thoughts a realm away.

 

Lelia's eyes flew open as she drew a sharp breath, clutching the satchel to her chest on impulse when someone cleared their throat as they walked by the rows of water barrels. For at least an hour, she'd kept moving from hiding spot to hiding spot, trying to avoid the men searching for her, watching for Simon to be among them until at last she'd returned to the spot where she'd started out. When she finally spied Simon, however, he was heading away from the tents toward the longhouse with two other men so she kept hidden. After some time, she'd spied him walking back toward the rows of tents alone, turning down the the third row from the guard house. She crept along behind the barrels until she could see down the row and watched him enter a tent about halfway down on the right side. At the time, however, the camp had still been far too active for her to follow him so she settled back between the barrels to wait as the search for her whereabouts continued and had promptly fallen asleep.  
But she was well awake now. She stretched the stiffness from her body before easing herself up to a crouch, moving from between the barrels to scan the roads on the other side. If she looked to her right, not far away, she could see the small booth she'd approached earlier, another man inside, looking down at something in his hand. There was no sign of her horse, Melda. She'd slapped her on the hindquarters when she'd slipped away, hoping the horse would start for home as she was wont to do when left to her own devices. If the Midgardians had taken the little mare, her Da would upbraid her for it.  
She snuck out a bit further, looking left. The road toward the longhouse was empty. The tents were mostly dark, quiet, one or two lighted from inside, the torches along the road whispering with the cold breeze that played about the flames. Squaring her shoulders, she raced across the road down the third row of tents until she was out of sight of the guard booth, sure she would hear fast footsteps behind her but all was silent. She kept on, staying close to the tents, hoping anyone looking down the row would dismiss her as a shadow or a loose strip of fabric.  
She stopped before his tent. At least she hoped beyond hope that it was his tent. She couldn't be completely sure. The writing on the little sign hanging beside the flap was foreign to her. Now what should she do? Knocking on the tent flap would be of no use. Should she scratch it? Open the flap and walk in? What if she was wrong? An all consuming urge to bolt suddenly overtook her. She wanted to run as far and as fast as she could back to the farm, crawl into her bed and hide beneath the blankets. Who cared about fate? Destiny?  
She stood trembling, torn by her decisions until the sound of a tent flap being thrown back a short distance away urged her forward

 

The soft thump on the side of the tent made Simon jump up from the writing desk, catching his book as it slid off the edge.  
“Who is it?” he called stepping up to the flap, looking about for something, anything to wield as a weapon.  
“ 'Tis Lelia. Please could I come inside?”  
Lelia. So it was Vargas's daughter just like Kenworth had said. He lifted the flap and Lelia rushed in staring about the tent, eyes wide with fright.  
“There's no one else here, I assure you,” Simon pulled out the chair to his desk, “Sit down. Let me make you a cup of tea. You look chilled.”  
Lelia gazed down at herself, embarrassed. Her dress was damp from the hem to her knees, her cloak as well, dirty with mud from the slurry between the water barrels, her hair half pulled from her braid, sticking out in wispy strands, the satchel gripped tightly to her chest.  
“No,” so softly did she say it he almost asked her again until she shook her head, “No tea, no time.”  
She hefted the satchel, setting it atop the desk, “I've something to show ye.”  
Simon stood back as she undid the buckles of the satchel, opened the flap and drew out a book, laying it on the desk before him.  
Simon studied the heavy tome, four strange symbols tooled into the red leather cover.   
“Lovely....quite ornate...,” he traced a finger down the spine, felt the supple softness. The book had obviously been cared for, “Don't tell me you came here to show me a book? You roused the whole encampment to become Asgard's equivalent of a bookmobile? What...”  
She put a hand across his mouth, with the other, opening the book to a page she'd marked with a piece of string.  
“I've come to show ye yer destiny.”  
She pointed to lines of text, at least he assumed they were text, “Do ye not see? Ye were brought here for more than this,” she gestured about the tent.  
“No,” Simon shook his head with a sad smile, “I'm afraid I don't see....I haven't learned enough Asgardian to be able to read it.”  
Lelia slapped her hands to her temples, “The gods wept. I'm a right fool, I am. Ye were raised on Midgard, mores the pity.”  
She leaned over the book, “.....the keepers of the rune elementals were each of them given a task were the runes ever again needed to protect the realms. To the keeper of the rune Ingwaz was given the task of keeping the location of the other runes secret. To the keeper of the rune Kenaz was given the task of protecting the other three keepers, to the keeper of the rune Uruz was given the task of wielding the power of the runes in times of danger and to the keeper of the rune Laguz was given the task of gathering the other runes together when destiny decreed it should be so.”  
Simon stood there, hands behind his back until Lelia looked up at him.  
“ye cannot deny ye were meant to come here.”  
Simon shrugged, “To Asgard? To the longhouses?”  
“Ooo is it so hard headed ye are?” Lelia shut the book with a dull whump, “Aunty has taken leave of her senses setting me on such a foolish task. To Asgard aye but not for the reason yer here now.”  
His head was beginning to swim.   
“It's the only reason I came here. I work on the portals, I get paid, I go home to my little house....ahhhh....oh good god!”  
She had taken his face in her hands which felt as though they'd been immersed in blocks of ice.   
“Me Da was right,” she hissed, “Ye have eyes yet ye see nothing!”  
He tore himself from her grasp, stumbled backwards nearly knocking over the chair beside him.  
“You're wrong,” he cried, “You are so wrong!” Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he shouldn't be shouting. People were going to hear him and investigate and yet the other half of his sanity wanted someone to drag this woman away, carry her back to her farmhouse.  
“I see everything! Oho you don't know...” a maniacal giggle escaped his lips and he gritted his teeth hard. If he started laughing, he might never stop.  
“I see I've been stuck in this BLOODY realm for far too long. I see being here has made my....me....worse...than before..”  
“Worse?...Wh....”  
“I see everyone thinks I'm a fucking DWARF! I see my colleagues believe I'm going insane and maybe I am...”  
He covered his face with his hands, squatted to the ground, panting, “And now you'd have me believe I have some place in a grand cosmic scheme. It would be statistical impossibility, just ask Tony, he'll crunch the numbers for you. I'm no one.”  
He was met with silence and for a moment he thought she'd slipped out of the tent, frightened by his loud rant until the deck prism hovered before his eyes, cradled in her hands.  
“Ye are someone. Ye have a reason for being. Oftimes we don't get to choose what fate has in store for us and we don't have to like it, that's the truth but to go against it...'tis like walking into a constant wind. It makes ye weary though ye continue to struggle until ye turn and let the wind push ye along, lift ye up. Finally ye find fate has given ye wings.”  
She set the prism on the carpet before him, “Yer wings have been long clipped.”  
He heard the rough swish of leather as she slid the book back into the satchel, “Fare ye well, Simon of Foster.”  
He groaned, pushing his fingers through his ruffled honey blond hair, “What can I do? Honestly? Even if I were to buy into this....this....notion. What can I do? I'm here in this encampment. I mean I don't get out much...”  
He looked up at her, struck by the light of the lantern behind her, streaming through her red hair, creating a red gold halo about her face.  
“Are ye not a free man?”  
“Define free..,” he stood up, the prism in his hands, “We're free to roam about the encampment. Occasionally we go to the palace for meetings with the King. Other than that, it's a permanent boy scout campout.”  
She giggled then and he smiled. It felt exhilarating, as if the elephant sitting on his chest had taken a temporary sabbatical.  
“Ye say such strange things. Let us visit Harmand. Sure, he'll help ye follow yer destiny..”  
“Ah yes let me just get a day pass from Stark,” he grinned, rubbed his hands together, “I cannot....can...not simply up and leave and what is this about us? Aren't you taking care of your....,” he swallowed the word _“crazy”_ , “taking care of your Aunty?”  
Lelia shook her head, “ 'Twas she who told me I should take on this task or do ye know the way to Harmand's village by yerself now?”  
For a long time he stared into the depths of the prism. Every once in a while he could see the rune buried within flash out at him, retreat into the glittering play of light, his mind turning along with it.  
As if in a dream, he saw himself taking his backpack from the footlocker beside his cot, emptying it onto the blanket, folding a couple of the tunics and a few pairs of breeches he'd been given when they arrived on Asgard. He'd not worn them more than a few times since he rarely saw the outside of the camp. Upon folding the last pair, he looked down at himself.   
“Maybe I should change?”  
Lelia looked about the tent, “Aye, have ye another room?”  
Simon grinned, “Fraid not. You'll have to um...”  
Before he could say anything else, she'd taken the chair at the desk and put her head down on her arms.  
“Get on with it. Give a cry when yer finished.”  
As he pulled off his Stark industries sweatshirt and dropped it to the end of the cot, she began to hum a lilting tune.  
“You sound happy,”  
Her shoulders moved, “I've good reason,”  
He pulled his breeches up, adjusted them, yanked the ties tight, “Say that when you've been on the road with me for a day.”

 

His hands ached. He loosened his grip on the straps of his backpack though he kept up his rapid pace down the line of tents. Behind him he could hear Lelia panting as she trotted to keep up with him.  
When he'd stepped outside the tent, a decision had formed in his mind. He was of the firm belief that they needed to travel to Asgard proper to ask the King for asylum. He loathed betraying Tony like this but he knew asking his permission to leave the encampment would be soundly denied, and with good reason. Before they left the tent, he'd lain all his work on his pillow. His notes, formulas for the portals, schematics, all contained on his tablet and the holodrive. At first he stood staring at them with an oddly comforting feeling of finality, resisted the urge to gather the tablet into his pack, choosing only to retain his journal book.  
“I'm fer thinking yer daft,” Lelia huffed as they neared the farthest edge of the encampment, pausing beside the northern wall of Longhouse 2, “I mean who's to say the King won't scoop ye up and drop ye right back down in the middle of this....what did ye call it? Boy scout camp?”  
Simon held a finger to his lips, “Shhh, keep your voice down. Now I don't know. I can't say Thor won't tie me up and send me parcel post to Stark but I can't take off without an explanation. No matter where my ancestors came from, I'm still a citizen of Midgard. I still have to abide by their wishes..”   
“Aye and 'tis what yer doing now I'll warrant.”  
A few feet away, a tent flap opened and a man and woman stepped out, speaking quietly to one another. Simon took Lelia by the shoulder, pulling her into the shadows until the couple moved away up the row of tents.  
Simon edged around the corner of the longhouse. The only thing separating them from the pitch black forest was the torchlit perimeter road. He patted his coat pocket to reassure himself the requisitioned halogen clip was still where he'd put it. He glanced across the road into the trees. The small lights had superior battery life but who knew how long they'd have to travel through the woods to reach the main road into Asgard. Would it be daylight by then?  
“A letter,” Lelia tugged at his sleeve.  
“What?”  
“Write a letter asking for this permission ye call asylum. I'll deliver it to the royal guards at the palace doors.”  
He looked up and down the road. It was deserted, as it should be at a quarter past twelve in the evening.  
“A letter? I think they'd more appreciate it were I to show up in person.”  
He held up a hand, took a deep breath and sprinted for the edge of the tree line, his heart in his mouth, sure at any moment someone would shout for him to halt and come about but he passed the reach of the perimeter torches, his boots crunching in the brittle underbrush. He turned around and waved to Lelia. On her way across the road, she stumbled though she regained her footing. Seconds later, she was standing beside him as they watched the encampment for any signs of activity.  
“If ye kneel before the king and ask his leave, tell me now, what reason will ye be giving him? Will ye tell him yer going on a quest to find the rune elementals, possessed of the nine realms most powerful magic? When he asks what put such a wild notion into yer head what then? Will ye tell him destiny has called to ye..?”  
“And what if my destiny is to obey the rules?” Simon fumbled for the light in his pocket cursed his trembling hand, turned it on, shining it into the woods.  
“Ah Odin's beard. Ye've a head of stone. Lead on then, thou fool.”  
They picked their way through the forest as the evening wore on, exchanging little in the way of conversation. Once she mumbled to herself, “Must trade for a bow, damn my head, “ but said little else as their energy was reserved for the slog through the forest. Every so often she would call a halt to their progress, looking about at the forest, up through the canopy at the stars then start off in a different direction.  
“This way.”  
He would look about when they stopped, amazed at her ability to navigate from the stars. Or at least her apparent ability. They'd not reached the main road as of yet. They stopped again. This time when he glanced at the sky, he realized the horizon was beginning to brighten. He stuck the light into his backpack, rubbing his hands together for warmth until she motioned them on.  
Not long after dawn, they emerged into a small clearing. Across the clearing was a stone fence, beyond the fence lay the main road. As they climbed over the fence to the hard packed dirt ruts, he surveyed their surroundings. He was cold, hungry, tired scared....excited too if the truth be known.   
“Where are we?”  
Lelia pointed up the road, “Halfway to the village of Cole by my estimation. We'll barter for a ride or we'll not make the city by nightfall, not on foot.”  
“Is that wise? I mean they must know by now that I've gone missing.”   
Lelia regarded him with her emerald green eyes, “Well then we've not a moment to lose. They'll likely be waiting for ye at the palace.”  
Simon sighed as she started off down the road at a faster pace than he could manage. After half a mile he paused, watched her continue on another ten feet, twenty feet. Finally he dropped down into the grass at the side of the road. It had been cold enough to snow the night before but now with the sun beating down on them, it was exceeding warm. He sat there watching until she was almost out of sight enjoying the look of angry surprise on her face as he waved to her.  
She stomped back to where he sat, “Are ye meaning to wait for them here then?”  
He'd drawn from his backpack the small beat up journal and now held it open on his lap.  
“A letter, huh? Tell me, can the King read Midgardian?” he slipped the pen from between the pages and thumbed the release, “Dear Sir,” he scrawled across the top of a clean sheet of paper.  
Her hands dropped from her hips as she gazed at the pen, “A quill that needs no inkwell.”  
Her fingers wiggled as she held her hand out, “I'll write the letter in Asgardian to accommodate ye. Just tell me what I'm to say.”  
Simon couldn't help but smile at her eagerness to hold the pen. She stared along its length, holding it close to her eyes, dropping it down to the paper when he cleared his throat.  
“Um, Dear sir...,”  
She shook her head.  
“Your Majesty?”  
At her nod, he chuckled, “Alright...Your Majesty...no wait. To his Majesty, King Thor...”   
He watched her as he dictated, admiring her flowing script, charmed as she would lift the pen to examine it time and again while he thought of the next sentence. When at last they were finished, he folded the letter, stuffing it into the top of his pack.  
As she made to hand him back the pen, he put up his hand, “Keep it. I might need it once in a while but I'm sure it'll be safe with you.”  
The corners of her mouth quivered with delight as she dropped it into the satchel, patting the side satisfactorily and Simon had to look away for fear she'd notice him staring at her.  
They'd gone a dozen steps down the road when Lelia stopped, looked over her shoulder at the direction they'd come from.  
“I hear a wagon. Someone is coming.”  
Simon fought the urge to dash into the woods as the wagon came into view. After all, there were far more Asgardians here than there were Midgardians. The odds were that the driver would have not a clue as to who he was.  
When Lelia flagged the driver down, a sullen looking scarecrow of a man with dirty blond hair and bloodshot eyes, Simon felt sure he would be safe. The driver didn't seem all too intelligent as he nodded to the two of them, his gaze lingering a half minute too long on Lelia for Simon's taste.  
“Mornin'”  
Lelia approached the side of the wagon and looked up at the driver, “Kind sir, we're looking for a ride to the city of Asgard. Might ye be passing that way?”  
A half grin lit up his hawkish face, “I'm on me way to the Hammer and Serpent with a load of supplies,” he leered down at Lelia whose position gave him a straight shot down the front of her bodice, “But I might could be persuaded to travel a bit further.”  
Simon felt a bolt of white hot anger settle in the pit of his stomach. He'd carry Lelia on his back before he'd subject her to this lech. He moved forward, about to address the man when Lelia spoke up.  
“If ye've a notion to try me, I can promise ye'll be missing a finger or two afore yer done. Now I've coin of the realm and that's what ye'll have for a fair ride but 'tis all the barter we'll be doing.”  
The man's face darkened even as Simon sought to recover from Lelia's bold retort.  
“Ten gold coin and I'll take you half past Cole. I've a schedule to keep,” he sniffed importantly.  
Lelia shook her head, “I've silver.”  
The man sat back, “Fifteen silver then.”  
Lelia looked to Simon who mouthed, “No”  
“Twenty and ye take us to the city gates?”  
The driver hesitated, jerked a thumb at the back of the wagon,“Well then climb up in the back. Mind the sacks.”   
“My name is Lelia,” she smiled across the flour sacks at the driver, elbowing Simon who glared at the driver's bony back.  
“Ah...Simon...”  
“Mmm,” he grunted, “Name's Fish,”  
Fish. Simon leaned back against the mound of flour sacks watching the canopy of trees pass overhead and was asleep in seconds.


	44. 44

“Loki, we rarely sit in the library save for important company because the fireplace there gives out not enough warmth for the room. I told you I would hang it in our bedroom if you did not wish it to hang upon our walls downstairs. I refuse to relegate it to a room where it is rarely seen.”  
Eidra glared at the two assistants who stood on stepladders, the old painting of Loki in his youth suspended above the floor in their hands.  
Loki stood there, cupping one elbow, a hand to his mouth, Syngen beside him, arms folded, face scarlet.  
Colin could barely contain his laughter. Syngen looked ready to strangle Eidra.  
“It is not that I dislike the new paintings, I simply cannot bear to part with...,” she walked over to the assistants, running a finger along the edge of the old frame, “...such an old friend. Your face has been a comfort to me on evenings when you are absent.”  
“But, my love....'twas hanging there when first we came to the manor,” Loki's eyes shifted to Colin who shrugged, helpless.  
“Mama?”  
Eidra looked down at Cait who had wrapped her arms around Eidra's waist.  
“Might I have it to hang in my room?”  
There it was. Colin let out a snort, glanced at Loki who was now smiling and he had to close his eyes or he was going to be roaring at any second.  
“I am afraid 'tis your mother's call where it will hang,” Loki called to her as Astrid rushed over to tug at Cait's dress.  
“I am the youngest. I want it to hang in my chamber!”  
“No!” Cait cried, clamoring for Eidra's arms, “I....am,” she paused, searching for a bargaining chit in her head, “I am the middle child.”  
Loki scooped Astrid up into his arms, “It will hang at the other end of the dining hall, my little sparrow, so your mother might yet enjoy it as long as she does not come to prefer it.”  
Ignoring her father's teasing, Astrid pouted, hiding her face in Loki's neck, “ 'Tis not fair.”  
“Mmmm. I will commission Syngen to paint you and your brother next. Shall this suit you?”  
Syngen rolled his eyes to the ceiling as his assistants carried the painting into the dining hall and leaned it against the wall.  
“Could someone come carry my trunk downstairs for me?” came a faint cry.  
“I'm on it,” Colin held up a finger, trotting out into the foyer to spy Brenna at the top of the second floor landing.  
“Brenna, don't you think you could do with a Midgardian suitcase?” Colin sighed as he trudged up the stairs, “Yer not going to be gone for a month. What in gods name is in here?”  
Brenna hefted one of the trunk handles as they started back down stairs, “Some gifts for Sophie, clothes, a few tomes to read. I really must fetch some new ones from Midgard. I wonder if Darryl Cain has written anything new?”  
“Ya...uhn....got me,” Colin huffed, “I'm after wondering why you don't like using that....,” the hair on the back of his neck stood on end whenever he even thought of the Uruz, “..necklace inside?”  
“Do slow down,” Brenna grunted, “I cannot see the stairs.”  
They settled the trunk near the front door, “As for your question, I do not feel safe using it inside.”  
“Don't know why. It's a lot safer than the portals for all of me,” Colin chewed his lip, sure he was going to regret his next few words, “So, did you tell yer beau goodbye?”  
Her bottom jaw jutted forward as she froze in place and Colin was struck by how very much she looked like her father in that instant.  
“Oh come on, luv,” he toed the edge of the trunk, “Even the security detail at the encampment has taken to calling you by yer first name...”  
She kicked the side of the trunk hard, making Colin jump, “I do not hide my comings and going any longer if you must know. I am only curious as to the nature of your inquiry.”  
Syngen's assistants scurried past them on their return to the sitting room.  
“Concern. You make yer Da mad with worry. He sees greater things for you.”  
Brenna sat down on top of the trunk, “Is love not the greatest of all things? Cannot love make good things great?”  
“Bleedin' Christ.....,” they looked toward the sitting room where loud voices could be heard, “Yer asking for miracles.”  
Brenna glanced up at him, eyes narrowed, “I think you are being woefully unfair toward Chase. We have a long history together...”  
“And a long one apart so I've heard tell. What about college then? When you go and he's still here in Asgard?”  
“Now you sound like him. He will not remain here forever. He shall return to Midgard...,”  
“Aye, and you'll return to Asgard.”  
“You are ready then?”  
Colin felt gooseflesh break out on his arms. How long had Loki been standing behind him?  
“Begging yer pardon, yer Highness but you move like a cat. You might give a holler afore you scare the life out of me.”  
“ 'Tis in my nature. Brenna go bid your mother farewell and I will take the trunk outside. Colin fetch the door will you?”

 

Loki looked to the darkening steel gray sky, “It will surely snow this evening.”  
“Early for it.”  
“It is Haustmanuour. The harvest is nearly finished. Winternights is coming, as is the Wild Hunt which you must be a part of this season. No it is not early.”   
The front door opened and Brenna hurried down the front steps of the manor to stand by her trunk.  
“Mama is teary as is Sally, Helgi...the only stoic inside is Fen....and of course Master Syngen.”  
They shared a quiet chuckle before Colin nodded, “Take care on Midgard, Bren. Forgive my outburst if you can find it in yer heart.”  
Brenna took his outstretched hand, squeezed it, “Forgive you for your concern? The very idea. I am flattered.  
“Well that's me off,” Colin trotted up the stairs, opened up the door and slipped inside.

 

As the door shut behind Colin, Loki looked at Brenna, “Have I missed something?”  
“No,” Brenna lifted the Uruz but Loki covered her hand with his own.  
“No indeed,” he took the Uruz between his own fingers, studying it, “Most assuredly I did not miss his impassioned plea to pay heed to your father, nor your argument about the power of love.”  
Brenna stared through the center of the Uruz, “Did not love work miracles with you?”  
Loki set the Uruz back into her hand, “Love set me on a different path than that which fate had designed for me. I shall not know until I come to its end whether or not miracles were wrought.”  
Brenna held up the Uruz, “Midgard, New York, Brooklyn, Livingston street.”  
The portal shimmered to life before them, showing a row of neatly kept brownstones. A woman jogged by in a grey and red workout suit, her fingers pressed to her neck. Two men holding hands, walking a dog passed in the opposite direction.  
“The green building is where Sophie is staying with her aunt,” Brenna pointed to one of the apartment buildings before them. Twilight had finally fallen and warm light shown from the windows.  
Loki stepped closer to the portal, “Ah, shocking as it may sound, I do so wish you would have chosen to start from the S.H.I.E.L.D facility. It would comfort me.”  
Brenna bent down to grab one of the trunk handles, “Papa, we should be able to come and go as we please with the Uruz without having to inform the Midgardians, you said so yourself.”  
Loki waved her away, hefting the trunk himself, “I said I should be able to come and go as I pleased, being an adult. Is it safe to cross over?”  
Brenna stepped to the edge of the portal, “I see no one. I will stand at the opening.”  
Loki passed through with the trunk in his arms, stopping to set it down before the steps of the green apartment building. The honk of a car horn brought him around to scowl as he hurried back to the portal where Brenna stood.  
“A week you say?”  
“Yes Papa.” Brenna shifted from foot to foot eager to be off.  
“Very well then,” he nodded to her, “If ere you need anything, come home.”  
Brenna looked through the portal, “I will.”  
All at once, he felt as if the seasons had dropped away and she was standing before him, a headstrong child all of fourteen. Panic overtook him though he fought to swallow it down.  
“I....I do not expect you to...ah....ignore your heart. It would be a glaring contradiction upon mine own life. I only ask that you live for yourself first before you live for another.”  
Brenna leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Thank you, Papa. I love you.”  
“And I you.”  
She gave his arm a reassuring rub and suddenly he was alone. Snowflakes brushed his face as he clasped his hand together, bringing them to his mouth.   
“My love?”  
Loki turned to see Eidra silhouetted in the light of the open door.  
“Come inside. We will put the children to bed, I will have Gretten make us a warm posset and we will sit by the fire a bit.”  
He smiled, walking up the front steps until he was one below, gazing up at her, “How is it you know exactly what I need?”  
She draped her arms over his shoulders, “Oh I do like being taller. I know what you need because I am your wife. I know how to please you do I not?”  
He buried his face to her bosom, felt her stroke his hair as he wrapped his arms about her waist.  
“Loki? Are you well?”  
Of course she could sense his distress, she had always known his moods.  
“I am,” he continued up the steps to take her arm, “Now let us hasten the children to sweet dreams for I am most eager to be the sole recipient of your attention.”

 

Ardsley had to sprint to keep up with Stark as he strode down the row of tents.  
“Are you sure you got the right tent? They all look a-goddamn-like to me. Jesus I feel like somewhere a guy in a bugle is getting ready to blow revelry.”  
“Yes...ah...sir,” Ardsley huffed, “I've been in Mister Foster's tent before.”  
Up ahead of them a few agents were standing outside Simon's tent and Stark had a sudden urge to tackle them as a group.  
“What about the mess tent? The latrines? Did you check there?”  
One of the agents had spied them and now they were all staring as Stark drew nearer.  
“Everywhere. Both longhouses, the privies, the showers...”  
Stark pushed past the men, throwing wide the tent flap, stopping to stand in the middle of Simon's tent, “Did you check everyone else's tents? I mean he could be visiting with someone right?”  
“Who?” Kenworth had followed them inside, “With all due respect, sir, you're about the only person he talks to in this whole camp. The rest of us just make him nervous.”  
Stark put his hands on his hips, “Good point. Not the best news but not far wrong.”  
“We never caught that girl last night either,”  
“You made a thorough circuit of the grounds didn't you?” Stark glared at him, “You confirmed the camp was clear. You said so in your report.”  
“Well yes,” Kenworth rubbed the back of his neck, “But she's from Asgard. Who knows what she was capable of....you think maybe she could've found him?”  
Stark tromped over to the bed, put a hand on the heavy blanket...cold.  
“Didn't anyone think to post a watch over his tent seeing as the girl was looking....” he tossed aside the sheets with a grunt, “....for him?!?”  
Kenworth, his arms crossed, shrugged, “Her horse disappeared, we figured she'd gone with it.”  
Stark let out a short bray, “Never assume....,”   
When he'd tossed aside the sheets, Simon's tablet and holodrive had tumbled from the pillow to the mattress, now Stark stood staring at them. All at once, he was traversing the tent on a run. He stopped before the small bookcase next to the writing desk moving books, standing on tiptoe to see the higher spots.  
“Shit.”  
“What?” Ardsley joined him to peer into the dusty dark shelves, jumping back as Stark whirled about.  
“If he's not in this camp, he wasn't dragged away kicking and screaming. That damn family heirloom of his is missing.”  
Stark crossed to Simon's cot, snatching up the tablet and the small drive, “He's left of his own accord..”  
Ardsley tipped his head, his mouth open to speak but Stark beat him to it.  
“It means he's AWOL.”  
Stark burst through the tent flap into the gray morning light, “Kenworth I want you to take a few men and head to that farmhouse where we found him at before. Don't go in there guns drawn, be polite, see if they have any idea where their daughter went. Ardsley and I are going to see the big guy.”  
“Fury?” Ardsley gaped at him.  
HA!,” Stark started off in the direction of longhouse one, “Maybe later, IF we can't find Simon anywhere else. For now, this is an internal incident. We're going to ride to the city of Asgard to see Thor. We'll go from there.”

 

The small girl knelt on wobbling knees before him, holding up a folded letter.  
“Your Majesty, I was given this letter to deliver to you from an ugly man I met on the front steps in the city square.”  
“An ugly man indeed?” Thor chuckled, felt Jane elbow him, “Rise, child. You have done your chore, you deserve something for your trouble,” he reached into a small pouch at his belt, drawing out a silver coin and placing it in the girl's hand, “You may go.”  
“Thank you, your most gracious Majesty,” she cried as she hurried away, the coin pressed tightly into her palm.  
“What's the letter about?” Jane eased herself down into the rocking chair behind her.  
They had been studying the royal nursery, discussing a change of décor for the new baby. Thor sat down on the steps leading out to the balcony to unfold the parchment.  
“It is from the Midgardian scientist Simon Foster....,” Thor mumbled, peering closer at the words.  
“Well what does it say for pete's sake?” Jane leaned forward in the chair but Thor continued to read to himself. She was about to stand back up and walk to him when he lept to his feet and began to pace, “Odin wept!”  
“Thor if you don't read it out loud, I'm going to throw something large and heavy at you,” Jane warned, scanning the nursery for the item in mind.  
Thor strode over to kneel at her side, putting the letter before them both. Jane was silent as the read the letter, her face contorting into a mask of distress until she turned to stare at Thor.  
“Simon Foster is asking for asylum?” she returned her attention to the letter, “Where the hell is he? Why didn't he deliver the letter himself?”  
“Perhaps he feared I would reject his request,” Thor took the letter, refolded it and set it in his lap.  
“Would you?”  
Thor stared at the letter, glanced out the arches to the steel sky where a few snowflakes were starting to fall, “I do not know. I must gather more information if I am to make an informed decision. I must speak with Stark,” Thor stood, stuffing the letter into his belt.   
“But you couldn't say no could you? I mean what's there to be worried about? He's just a scientist.”  
“But he is a Midgardian, with Midgardian ideas. What if he were to bring his beliefs to the countryside, convince the people life is better in another realm? Show them your moving paintings, your instant fire, horseless wagons?”  
“Hey remember me? Jane? From Midgard?” Jane struggled to her feet again, “Just because we're different doesn't mean our ideas are all bad. Maybe he's come to like Asgard more than Midgard. Your niece certainly likes it there. Besides, what's wrong with a little technology? You don't have to supply people with holoprojectors,” she looked down at her dress, “But a washing machine, a lighter.....heck a record player...I can tell you most of the time Midgard is on a fast track to deconstruction I agree with you there but a few modern conveniences are not going to topple society as you know it..”  
“Jane, we've spoken upon this before, ” Thor pivoted about to study her, “Are you unhappy here on Asgard?”  
Jane wrapped her hand about her belly, “.....no...I am not unhappy....no....”  
Thor stared at her a moment more, “You have not been to visit your realm in many seasons.”  
“Not since Darcy's wedding.....almost four years ago,” her shoulders slumped, she pushed her hair back from her face as Thor cupped her chin with his hand.  
“I asked far too much of you when I expected you to uproot yourself completely from everything you had ever known and for this I beg your forgiveness.”  
Jane felt the baby flutter about, “I'm just, I don't know, bored. Blame it on a lifetime spent in front of computers, radars, sonars.....television....”  
He stroked her cheek, “I will arrange for you to visit Midgard as soon as we attend to this matter. Then you shall return refreshed.”  
“Sure,” Jane nodded, “I can visit Darcy, call my mom...I think she's getting tired of letters all the time.”  
“Then it shall be so,” he let go of her face, “For now we must find out what has possessed Simon Foster.”  
Jane watched Thor rush from the nursery, closing the door behind him.  
“Maybe Simon felt trapped,” she muttered to herself as she sat down again in the rocking chair, “Bored and trapped.”

 

Colin pulled the hood of his cloak tighter about his face, peering out at the snowflakes which had begun to dust the road.   
“Too early for fecking winter...”  
He'd woken up late this morning, hurried through the morning meal alone with Gretten and Beth in the kitchen as everyone else had eaten already, rushed out, saddled Agathon to ride to the longhouses because his progress report was due to be delivered to Lily the next morning and he'd been neglecting his duties as of late. He'd gotten a mile down the road, realized he left his tablet in his room and so was forced to turn around to retrieve it.  
Now he was later than ever as he urged Agathon into a gallop down the access road to the encampment. Upon spying a group of men at the gatehouse, he slowed to a trot until he saw Stark in the middle, gesturing wildly at another agent as he handed Stark the reins to a white mare.  
“What the hell? Oi!” Colin dropped to the ground, as Stark rushed at him.  
“We have a problem..,” Stark waved to him, “Get back up on that horse.”  
Colin stared about at the agents, “I've got a deadline to......what sort of problem?”  
Stark was already pulling himself into the saddle, “We're missing someone?”  
His first thought was Chase.  
“Who?” Colin hefted himself up onto Agathon's back.  
“Kenworth, I want status updates every fifteen minutes. Am I clear? And I repeat no strong arming. We're not trying to scare the hell out of anybody. Jesus, what I wouldn't give to have Hap here but no he had to decide retirement was more his pace...,”  
“Who's missing, fer fuck sake?”  
Stark turned to him, a wry smile on his face, “Simon Foster.”

 

Lightning's hooves echoed in the nearly deserted city square. People were busy setting up shops for the day. An elderly couple standing by the fountain of Odin bowed to Loki as he rode by, he returning the gesture with a stiff nod but otherwise the square was quiet as he passed under the archway leading to the south courtyard.  
“See to it he has fresh hay and ask the stable master to see to his right foreleg. He is favoring it,” Loki handed the reins to the stable boy who bowed low.  
“Yes, your Highness. The King is waiting for you in the stables.”  
Loki tilted his head , “If he intends to ride this morning, he shall have to provide me a horse for I will not overtax Lightning.”  
He made the stable doors in time to see Thor trot through on his stallion, Lars.  
“Have you walked here this day?”  
“Why yes, Brother. All the way from home.”  
Thor glared at him, “I am in no mood for your humor, brother.... Boy!,” he called through the stable doors, “Fetch the Prince a horse!”  
“Thor, whatever in the realm troubles you so?” Loki strode to Thor's side, at once on the alert watching Thor reach into his belt, withdraw the letter and hand it down to him, “Read it.”  
Loki unfolded the parchment, a frown growing on his face as his eyes drifted downward.  
“Odin's beard..,” Loki breathed, refolded the letter, handing it back up to Thor as the stable hand reached him, holding out the reins of a light brown filly.  
“What is your intention?” Loki grunted as he hauled himself up into the saddle.  
“We must away to the longhouses and inquire as to the nature of this request,” Thor turned Lars as they headed out through the south gates into the palace field road.  
“Surely you are not considering the scientist's plea?”  
Thor glanced over his shoulder at Loki, “Surely I must but I will know the cause before I make a decision.”  
Loki brought the image of Simon to his mind, “I cannot imagine the scientist setting out of his own free will. He is a mouse of a man, loathe to venture outside the safety of his tent much less outside the front gates of the encampment.”  
Thor urged Lars into a gallop as they reached the main road and turned south, “Nevertheless he seems to have done so unless this is some elaborate ruse.”  
Loki looked about the woods surrounding them, “For what purpose, then?”  
“I do not know,” Thor shouted back to him, “It has been oft remarked you ask too many questions.”  
“ 'Tis my nature,” Loki smiled grimly to himself as they sped down the rutted road, “...and your burden.”

 

Colin raced to keep pace with Tony, turning over and over in his mind what could possibly have possessed Simon to take a giant leap away from his good senses. It seemed a lifetime ago when they'd shared more than a few mugs of cider outside the tents at the Allfather's funeral and he'd warned Simon not to disappear. The big question remained, however, why he'd done so, where he'd gone. Tony had muttered something about a farmhouse and a damn girl but before Colin could ask what he was talking about they were already at a gallop north toward Asgard and the opportunity for conversation was lost.  
The clouds had cleared out and though the air was still chill, the sunshine warmed their backs. They passed field after field, barren, ready for the long sleep of winter and Colin felt a sudden inescapable yearning for home, not the manor house but home with his ma and da. His mind wandered to a night not long past when he'd told Loki he was going home for a few days around Christmas to be with his parents.  
“They're getting on in years, you understand. I try to spend as many holidays with them as I can. Plus I've got to visit me Grandad. He's probably for thinking I've up and forgot about him.”  
At Loki's protest, Colin had pointed out his similar dedication to his own family.  
“This I shall grant you but I oft wonder whether you shall return to Midgard only to remain there. Surely Fury would not release you from your assignment so readily. There is much you have not seen of Asgard. I had planned a ride about the kingdoms come spring.”  
“Ah no. I'll not be out of yer hair for some time to come.”  
Now he wondered if Simon's disappearance might not change plans.

 

“What do you believe are Master Foster's intentions?”  
Thor glanced over his shoulder, “What!”  
“If you would slow your pace...,” Loki grumbled, “I ASKED WHAT YOU BELIEVE MASTER FOSTER'S INTENTIONS ARE?!”  
Thor brought his horse up short causing Loki to veer sharply to the right to avoid plowing into him.  
“Odin's beard! If you endeavor to break my neck I beg of you do it with your own two hands and spare me the ignominy of leaving my horse to do the job!” Loki sputtered as he brought the filly even with Lars.  
“Forgive me. I only thought your question warranted a well thought out answer,” Thor shrugged.  
“Can you not think and ride at the same time?” Loki reached down to his bridle, lifting his canteen for a swallow of water, “...practice an answer then. We are full stopped.”  
Thor patted his belt where he'd stuffed the letter, “We have had little trouble with the Midgardians since their arrival despite your initial misgiving...,”  
“And yours, I might add..,”  
“Agreed. And as you have had far more contact with them than I, should I not defer to your opinion? What say you about this Midgardian?”  
Loki weighed his words, taking another swig of water, “He is exceeding strange. He needs must control his surroundings or he falls to fits. Not a tome out of place, his writing utensils, closet just so. He is brilliant, he is slightly mad and as of late he was taken ill so to speak, with orders to rest in his tent. This I have gleaned from my conversations with Colin and in the scant interaction I have had with Master Foster.”  
“This tells me nothing,” Thor frowned, “Nothing of his intentions.”  
Loki was about to reply when the sound of hoofbeats reached his ears.  
“Come, let us out of the way, there are horses coming from the south.”  
They guided their mounts off to the right and stood waiting for the approaching riders to appear.  
As they came into view, Thor tilted his head, “Can it be?”  
“What?” Loki watched the riders speed toward them.  
“By Freyr.....it is Stark and Colin.”

 

“Could they be waiting for us?”  
“Got me,” Stark shouted, “But they're who we're looking for aren't they.”  
Stark pulled his horse into a trot as they rode up to Thor and Loki.  
“Hey I was just heading over to your place. You people should really consider investing in phone service in the very least.”  
“Indeed,” Thor grunted, “We were on our way to see you.”  
“Oh?” Stark glanced at Colin, “Okay first I'll tell you my problem then you tell me yours, deal?”  
Loki rolled his eyes to the canopy of trees above them, “Out with it then.”  
“We've a problem,” Colin piped up, “It seems Simon Foster has gone missing.”  
Thor drew the letter from his belt, “It would seem missing is not the word you search for. Let us repair to the palace where we might talk in private.”  
Thor turned his horse, heading north toward the city at a gallop.  
“This looked pretty private to me,” Stark mumbled as he slapped his reins, spurring his horse to follow suit.


	45. 45

The three of them sat at one end of the table in the Great hall watching Stark pace back and forth, the letter clutched in his hands.  
“Asylum? You gotta be kidding me!”  
“It's not unheard of,” Colin sat forward, an untouched chalice of wine before him.  
“We are not in New York, do you understand?” Tony shouted, “And this isn't the fucking U.N. This is a whole lot different than a change of address, this is an interstellar incident which, I might add, I am going to have to answer for or did you forget I'm responsible for this project and everyone associated with it.....damn it I knew I should have taken care of things when I found him at that farmhouse..”  
Thor's countenance darkened as he waved to one of the chairs, “Pray sit down and tell us what caused him to seek asylum in the first place...what farmhouse do you speak of?”  
Tony stopped at Thor's elbow, “Simon was walking the perimeter road about a month ago , noticed someone spying on the encampment from the woods and followed them to a farmhouse nearby where he met a young woman,” Tony waved at Thor, “..works in the palace I think...or did anyway until last night...”  
Thor pushed his chair back, standing up as Tony continued.  
“...so we fetch Simon back to the camp and pretty soon this...I don't know, dwarf or elf... comes to visit him, starts telling him he's one of the family...”  
“Family? Simon is from Nidavellir?”  
All at once, Loki was on his feet as well. Colin remained seated however, riveted to the scene playing out before him.  
“Nidavellir! How can this be?”  
Tony pivoted about to face Loki, “Okay listen first of all he's not a dwarf...or if he is he didn't know it. He's from Mid...Earth damnit! Maybe he's related to your neighbors and all but he's not from here...and what is the deal? You're surprised that our realms mingle? We've done so puh-lenty of times before. This shouldn't come as a shock.”  
Loki turned to look at Colin and for the first time, Colin saw a glimmer of distrust in his gaze. His heart started to pound as he reached for his chalice.  
“Who is the Nidavellir who came to visit him?” Thor crossed his arms, glaring at Tony.  
“Name's Harmand....”  
Thor brought a hand to his chin, “I know the name, by Odin...I know it.”  
“...so last night, the woman came to the encampment looking for Simon. According to the guard she seemed real eager to see him..said she had to show him something,”  
“Woman?” Loki muttered.  
“From the farmhouse? The one who works in the palace? Keep up with me. So the guard says he had to check with me to see if she could enter the camp, he turns around and she's disappeared. We searched the whole encampment for her, found not so much as a strand of hair. This morning we wake up and Simon is gone. His research, all his work, holodrive, most of his journals were lying on the bed. Packed his clothes and the regulation back pack and took off for parts unknown...he even took that deck prism Harmand...”  
“So...,” Colin jumped up from the table, “What do we do now?”   
He was ready to throttle Stark. The man honestly couldn't shut up once he got started. Whatever Simon had in mind, Colin was pretty sure it had a whole hell of a lot to do with what had been happening to the both of them ever since they'd arrived in Asgard. The crazy seer with her predictions, the dream he'd had in the sweat lodge, the way he'd felt when he held the Uruz in his hand. Everything was starting to connect, to come together and he wasn't so sure Thor should be privy to the entire story lest they send a posse out after Simon.  
As if to give voice to Colin's thoughts, Tony put his hands on his hips, “Well first things first, I've got to return to New York, make a few phone calls. We'll get some of the best trackers in here and by tomorrow evening I'll make a bet with you that Simon will be back at the encampment...whether he wants to or not.”  
“No!” Thor growled, “I will not have my kingdom upset by your Midgardian mercenaries.”  
Tony turned to stare at him, “I don't know if you're aware, your Highness, but Simon's disappearance is a real big probl...”  
“As King of the realm of Asgard, I grant Simon Foster asylum!” Thor slammed his fist on the table beside him.   
Colin had to admit to a certain admiration as Stark moved not an inch from his spot in front of the King.  
“You can't do that. You cannot do it! You don't understand...he's vital to this project....,”  
Thor pushed past him on his way toward the Great hall entrance, Tony hurrying along to keep pace with him, Colin and Loki following close behind.  
“His knowledge unlocked the key to these portals. He solved the problems that stumped Banner and myself...”  
“You say his intellect is well beyond yours?” Thor called back to him, “Then what have you to worry about? He will no doubt be resourceful...”  
“I said he was smart, not smarter than me but it wouldn't matter if he was a genius. I'm more worried about Fury. Jesus he's gonna have an aneurysm. Damnit Loki, your kid has that medallion doesn't she?” Tony shot Loki a look over his shoulder.  
“She is on Midgard at this time, yes. What of it?”  
They kept a rapid pace through the corridor behind Thor, “I would ask her to fetch Pepper for me is all.”  
Loki drew even with Tony, “What of your portals?”  
“She doesn't have a portal marker to call them with so if I opened the portal without linking directly to a marker, it would simply open to the other portal at S.H.I.E.L.D. Again, no dice.”  
“So don't tell them Simon is missing,” Colin added, “Portal one is active. Portal two is on hold, waiting for clearance to test. You've run the tests yerself a hundred times easy, you don't need Foster for that...,”  
Tony stopped short, “And we're supposed to let Simon roam about the Asgardian countryside on sabbatical? His intellect won't stop him from taking an arrow to the back or being taken prisoner by some crazed anti-Midgardian sect. Don't mistake my adamant refusal to this action as my way of protecting my ass, not entirely. Simon is also a friend. A very sensitive, mentally disturbed, friend. I don't want to see him crack deep in the heart of the middle ages out there.”  
“The woman, what was her name?” Thor and Loki had returned to where Tony and Colin now stood.  
“I think her name is Lelia, or something like that..,”  
Loki put a hand to his mouth as Thor's face split into a grin, “If I were to assure you I could tell you where he is going, would this suit you?”  
“Nope, but it'll have to do for now won't it?”  
Thor nodded, “Indeed it shall, ” he turned to Loki, “Come, Brother. We must visit Trena.”  
“Delightful,” Loki groaned as they continued down the corridor, “She is by far ten times worse than old Astrid.”

 

“But your Highness, I cannot tell you where they have gone,” Trena bowed her head though Loki could see the corners of her mouth turn up ever so slightly, “I told Lelia to follow her conscience and so she did.”  
“With a man not of this realm,” Loki leaned over the table at which she sat, “You would allow them to go off alone. They may be in very real danger and yet you think it wise to keep their whereabouts to yourself?”  
“He is of this realm, your Majesty. Though not born and bred among his people, yet Nidavellir blood runs through his veins. They are in no danger, I assure you but to tell you of their whereabouts would compel you to seek them out and they have a destiny they must follow to its conclusion.”  
“It sounds kinda final?” Tony moved closer to the table, “You don't mean conclusion as in death do you?”  
Trena raised her head, her sightless eyes canted in Tony's direction, “I know only that every journey must end. As to what form this ending may take, I cannot say. I can say with certainty, however, they are safe.”  
“You cannot see where they are, yet you know they are safe. How is this possible?” Thor tapped the table before her.  
“I said I cannot tell you where they are, I did not say I could not see them,” she chuckled as she patted his hand.  
“You must tell me. I order it!”  
“Very well,” Trena nodded, “As you wish,” she rubbed her hands together, squinted her eyes shut, “They are....in....Asgard!”  
“Damn you!” Loki bellowed as Thor shook his head, “Damn you and your tricks!”  
“Well she's not far wrong, I'll bet,” Tony muttered, “They can't have gotten very far on foot.”  
“The man of metal speaks the truth,” Trena nodded, “Do not trouble yourself. Your friend will return though he may not be the same person you recall.”  
“How the hell...did...she...?” Tony glanced at Colin.  
“Annoying isn't it? So what's it going to be then. We call out the hounds or wait for him to turn up?”  
Tony looked at Trena, Loki, Thor, “If anything changes, if he so much as catches a cold, you send a letter, morse code, anything and I'll go looking for him on my damn own, agreed?”  
“Why of course. You have my word,” Trena reached for Tony's hand, squeezed it, “Your friend is on a very important journey, for himself, for our....” all at once, her face fell. She turned her sightless eyes to Loki, waving him toward her though he stayed in place at the end of the table.  
“The veil has thinned...” she paused, the silence growing until Colin cleared his throat.  
“I must think upon what I have seen,” Trena clasped her hands together.  
“Something about Simon?” Tony bent down to look into her milky sclera.  
“No, no. I must beg your indulgence, your Majesty. I will need to search for another apprentice soon.”  
“I will see it is taken care of,” Thor sighed wearily, “Thank you, seer.”  
Trena bowed her head, “Your Majesty.”  
As they headed down the corridor away from the seer's quarters, Thor invited them to stay for the evening meal but Stark declined.  
“We've got a lot of cleaning up to do back at the encampment. Arrangements to be made,” Tony nodded in Colin's direction, “I'll need your help.”  
“Then I will see you this evening at the manor, Master Denehy.”   
Colin stared at Loki, surprised to hear himself addressed so. He hadn't been “Master Denehy” since he'd arrived in Asgard. He felt sick right down to the pit of his stomach, sure there were going to be many questions when he returned home later that night and he was going to have to do at least a little of the one thing he hated to the family he'd come to cherish. He was going to have to lie.

 

Simon sat on the ground, wide eyed, his back against the trunk of a wide oak, hands to his mouth.   
“Here now,” Lelia glanced over at him, pushing a strand of hair away from her face and leaving a smudge of rabbit blood on her cheek, “That pile of twigs will be not near enough to cook this hare, so either I'm leaving ye to my job or ye do yers.”  
Simon swallowed hard, closing his eyes against the scene before him. Lelia kneeling on the ground, dagger in hand, the large rabbit splayed open, half skinned. There was a dull thud and he opened his eyes again to see Lelia standing up, towering over him.  
“Aunt Trena has charged me with a babe in arms! Can ye not find the strength in yer legs to rise and gather some proper wood?”  
“Rabbit...” Simon pointed behind her, “Dead...”  
Lelia rolled her eyes, pointed in the same direction, “Evening meal....or at least it will be when ye leave off worrying about them that's left their cares behind and do the needful thing!”  
“I'm not...I've never....ahhh!”   
She'd taken him by the arm and was now pulling him up to stand.  
“Now go. Ye'll never unless ye do.”  
She whirled about, dropping to the ground again before the rabbit, drew the dagger out of the dirt and began to work at the skin.  
Simon stared at the bloody fingerprints on his sleeve for a moment then gazed about the woods, the late afternoon clouds darkening the shadows. At last he sighed and started off, scanning the ground for larger pieces of wood.

The fire hissed and sizzled as the juices from the roasting rabbit dripped down into the flames. Lelia had worked in stony silence when he returned with an armful of large branches, clearing a patch of ground, building up the fire, spitting the rabbit, suspending it over the flames to cook.   
It was full on evening when she stole a glance at him, “Fergive me...,”  
“What?” Simon looked up at her.  
“I expected more of ye than was fair. I keep thinking yer of this world....I mean I keep forgetting that ye've not lived here your whole life...”  
“You expected too much too soon,” Simon gestured to the fire, the rabbit, “I mean this goes against everything I know. Where I come from, we don't...kill our own game. Food is prepackaged, plasticked up, homogenized, we are as far removed as possible from the source.”  
Lelia wrinkled her nose and Simon felt a silly smile begin to rise upon his lips, “Ye mean ye know not where yer food comes from? Have ye never hunted? Killed an animal for food?”  
“I've fished more than a few times but just for sport. Catch and release. Took a holiday to Scotland with some friends..”  
“Catch and release?!” Lelia laughed, “But what did ye eat for yer evening meal? Hopes and dreams?”  
Simon chuckled, stared down at his hands, “Aha, it does sound silly doesn't it? No, in fact we ate a fine meal at the inn where we were staying.”  
“That makes sense in the very least,” Lelia nodded, “I've stayed at an inn or two with me Da while traveling to market though I confess I wouldn't call the meal fine.”  
Simon looked about them at the dark woods, pulling his jacket tighter around him, “This whole endeavor sounds like a fantastic dream. Tell me how much farther do we have to go?”  
Lelia stood to examine the rabbit, “He looks done....to reach Harmand's village on foot? We've a few sunrises at the very least unless we can barter a ride again.”  
“And once we reach Harmand's village what do we do?”  
Lelia lifted first one end of the spit from the forks, then the other, “I've not the slightest idea. I know only that your path begins with yer people.”  
She laid the rabbit down on the pile of branches between them, “Ye might want to let it cool a tad.”  
The scent of roast rabbit perfumed the air and Simon couldn't resist pulling at a piece of haunch, tossing it back and forth in his hands to cool before he brought it to his mouth. The meat was possessed of a smoky sweet flavor, juicy, not dry as he'd expected.  
“God, I do love rabbit.”  
Lelia smiled, “I thought ye didn't hunt.”  
“Not at all, but my friends do and they are generous with their take. I don't mean to offend but tell me, has your Aunt Trena ever been wrong, you know, with her predictions?”  
Lelia paused, squinted into the fire, “No, perhaps a bit cryptic mind ye but wrong, never.”  
Simon leaned back against the tree trunk, “So you obey her without question, then? Run off with a stranger to do her bidding despite the fact that you've no idea what to do in the first place?”  
Lelia turned her head to glare at him, “ 'Twas my curiosity sent me on this quest! Aunty merely set me in the right direction, more's the pity. I do her bidding out of respect for her station but this journey was undertaken by me own leave. Long after ye visited with Harmand and my Da, I thought hard upon ye...,”  
Simon's mouth went dry. She was thinking of him....all this time...  
“...I wondered that ye knew nothing of yer heritage, nothing of the power of the rune ye'd been entrusted with though I knew little of it myself. So....I...went to the palace archives, read all I could stuff into me head about the legend of the rune elementals and vowed to reunite ye with yer people.”  
“Why?” he squeaked, cleared his throat, “Why would you do something like this?”  
She turned away, her hair dropping forward to hide her face as she stared into the fire.  
“It felt like the proper thing to do.....tell me...do ye have family back on Midgard?”  
Simon leaned his head back against the tree, “Mother, father, aunt. Sister I don't get on with very well...,”  
“ 'Tis a small brood. Ye live all under one roof then.”  
Simon burst out laughing, “Oh...oh god no, perish the thought! No, no my parents still live in England. I live in New York in a small cottage, not very much bigger than your family farm. It has a lovely back yard with a small garden where I grow fresh veg. Benches, flower trellis, fire pit...,” he had to stop, the urge to return to his little haven was fairly overwhelming him.  
“Sounds lovely,” she murmured, poked at the fire to stir the coals, “Perhaps ye'll find Alfheim a fair land as well.”  
“Will you be staying on with me once we get to Harmand's,” as soon as he said it, he felt a rush of warmth to his face while he struggled to temper his question, “Ah probably not I would suppose....you'll be having to return to take care of your Aunty....Aunt..Trena...I do recall you telling me a long time ago...being an aide to a seer...big job, big job...no time for family or other pastimes...not that you'd have a family....I mean not that you couldn't...not at all...” he shoved a knuckle into his mouth, screwed his eyes shut and took a deep breath.  
All at once he heard a soft giggle, opened his eyes to see her grinning widely at him and he was lost.  
“I'll stay on as long as ye wish me to, Simon. My destiny is now me own,” She reached into her satchel, drew out a heavy blanket, and wrapped it around her shoulders as she lay on her side facing the low coals, “Get ye some rest. We'll set out at dawn. We've ground to cover.”  
Simon opened his pack, drawing out the regulation blanket he'd packed, pulling it up to his chin as he sat watching her, listening to the soft pop crackle of the burning wood, the occasional hoot of an owl until exhaustion closed his eyes.


	46. 46

The door shut with a click. Colin stood in the cavernous foyer gazing up the stairs to the balcony. When he'd first entered the manor, he'd looked through the archway to spy Loki in his chair before the fireplace in the sitting room. Had Loki waited up for him?  
His whole body tensed as he started through the archway into the sitting room, “Yer Highness.”  
A thousand beginnings came to his mind at once. Should he mention the details of his day at the longhouses? Start right in apologizing about Simon? Should he say anything at all?  
“Long have I set here this evening, pondering the day's events...”  
“Fergive me, yer Highness. I could've saved you the trouble if I'd returned sooner but Tony....,”  
Colin took a step backward as Loki shot up from the chair, “I have been a naïve fool! To think you would be honest in all dealings, holding nothing back. My fondness for you fair clouded my judgment. Blinded me to the fact that you are still a Midgardian, an....” his nose wrinkled in disgust, “An agent sent by that one eyed monster, Fury!”  
Colin put his hand on Eidra's chair, sure his legs were going to betray him.  
“I've been honest with you!” Colin cried, the words sitting on his tongue like poison, “I've told you every fecking thing I can about this project!”  
“Everything you can...what of everything you know?!” Loki roared, advancing another step, the smell of wine pervading the air about him.  
“I can't tell you everything I know any more than you can tell me how many spies you've got watching our encampment! I've been as fecking honest with you as I can!”  
Loki looked away into the fire, a snarl frozen across his lips, “What of the portals? Stark warned me to stay vigilant. To be prepared should the Midgardian's reach extend their grasp. What of them? Have I received more truth from my admitted enemy than my apparent friend?”  
Colin felt close to tears. Apparent friend. Damn S.H.I.E.L.D, damn this whole operation.....   
“I thought you wanted to grill me about Simon's being a dwarf, which, by the way, I knew fuck all about...”  
“I care not what Simon Foster believes himself to be. It is his defection which concerns me. If his disappearance brings about an influx of Fury's Midgardian warriors, must I now fear for the safety of my realm, of my family?”  
From the corner of his eye, Colin detected movement beneath the archway into the foyer but kept his attention on Loki. There was someone listening to their exchange, likely more than some one with the volume they were at.  
“I'm as concerned as you are, bleedin' Christ! I'd do everything in my power to bring Simon back to the camp if I could. I don't want the fecking military here any more than you do. As for what Stark said, I told you a thousand times if I told you once, they don't tell me everything though I'm not going to make you believe it no matter what I say,” he took a deep breath, fear nearly stopping his words, “But you've an option. If you think you can't trust me, you can request that I be transferred to the encampment...remove the threat, so to speak...”  
“Loki.”  
They turned to see Eidra coming toward them.  
“You told me you were going to speak of Simon Foster's request for asylum and now I find you judging Colin most unfairly.”  
Loki glanced at Colin then to Eidra, “Get thee straightaway to bed woman....I shall speak of what I will...”  
“Loki!” Eidra stamped her foot hard on the floor, her eyes narrowed at him, “How dare you disrespect me so...,” she nodded then to Colin, “You must forgive my husband his indiscretion for when he is in his cups, he is another man altogether. He tends to forget his manners..”  
“Eidra!”  
Eidra glared at Loki, “...and believes there is no other voice to be heard save his...so I shall gather his thoughts for him. He was distressed at Simon's request for asylum based upon his claim of kinship with one of the dwarven clans from Nidavellir..”  
There was a loud scrape upon the floorboards as Loki stood from his chair and began to pace in stony silence behind them.  
“Milady, I will tell you what I know which is pitiful little,” at the very least therein he hadn't lied, “Simon has been told he's a descendant of...” something in the back of his mind told Colin to pare back the words _“Melos' clan”_ Simon had told him of Vargas' claim in a drunken stupor, wasn't it possible he'd heard wrong?, “a clan of dwarves living somewhere in Alfheim. The seer Trena seems to believe it as well.”  
“What clan?” Loki muttered, “If we are to find him we must know.”  
Colin looked down at his boots, “Trena said he should be left to his task.”  
Loki spun about, strode up to him, “Trena is insane as was her predecessor.”  
Colin stood his ground, nose to nose with Loki, “Be that as it may, Simon failed to mention what clan. I swear If I knew I'd tell you because I'm of the same mind. That old witch is off her nut.”  
Loki paused, looked to Eidra and sighed, dropping back into his chair.  
“ 'Tis not impossible, to be fair. The bridge has endured for thousands of seasons in one form or another and we have intermingled with the realms for as long. But not to know of one's heritage....how could one be so ignorant of such an important thing?”  
Colin was forming a reply when he felt Eidra's hand on his shoulder, drawing him away from Loki's side.  
“Let him alone with his thoughts, Colin. He fears more Midgardians will come to stay here in Asgard, changing our way of life. There is nothing he hates more than feeling powerless, losing control. He believes Simon's defection is simply the beginning. I believe his fears are unfounded but If we are vigilant, if we are careful nothing will change, nothing will happen....” They looked at Loki who sat staring again into the fire, a hand to his mouth, “Do you agree?”  
Colin set his jaw, “I would love to say I agree but I can only hope if the truth be told.”  
Eidra squeezed his shoulder and smiled, “Then we will indeed be upon our guard. Get to bed. Let him brood, let the wine dull his memory so he will be in better humor on the morrow.”  
Colin bowed to her, “Yer ladyship is truly a wise woman.”  
“He is exceeding fond of you, Master Denehy, as are we all. Doubt not the truth of this but also is he afraid of what this event foretells. Good eve. May the morning shine brighter.”  
“From yer mouth to the gods ears,” Colin whispered as she glided to Loki's side, kneeling to the rug before his chair.

 

“Oh look! I am so very happy for them!”  
Sophie swiped her finger across the screen, “And that's their official engagement picture.”  
“Brian has lost weight, has he not?”  
Sophie handed the tablet to Brenna, “Keep swiping to the left to see the rest of the pics....yeah he's dropped about fifty pounds,” She held out the wooden bowl to Brenna, “Come on, these chips aren't going to eat themselves.”  
Brenna set the tablet on her lap, a faraway look on her face as Sophie rattled the bowl in front of her.  
“Okay, the Brenna I know wouldn't turn away sea salt and vinegar chips if she were strung up by her toenails and covered with fire ants. You've been mum ever since you got back to New York,” Sophie set the bowl of chips down on the floor in front of the couch, “When are you gonna spill your guts?”  
Brenna tilted her head, momentarily perplexed, “Ah....forgive me. It has been such a long time since mine ears have heard Midgardian vernacular...,” she stared into the bowl of chips, “You recall when I arrived I told you much has changed since last we talked?”  
“We talked about four months ago....honestly how much can change in such a short span of time?”  
Both of them looked up as the apartment door swung open and Marnie entered with a flourish, “I....have returned!”  
Sophie clapped her hands as Marnie set a case of Smirnoff on the couch between them. Brenna smiled gamely up at the buxom blond woman. When she'd been introduced to Sophie's new roommate, she'd been put off by the woman's abrupt nature, particularly when she'd jerked her thumb at Brenna and remarked to Sophie, “She just don't look like a mutant....then again neither do you.”  
“Now it's a party....or the beginning of one...,” Sophie opened the case of Smirnoff and drew out a bottle, “Want one?”  
At first, Brenna held up her hands in protest until Marnie plopped down on the couch beside her and snickered, “You never told her she was a lightweight, Phee.”  
Scowling, Brenna took the bottle from Sophie's hand and twisted the cap off, “We drink ale and hard cider each day where I come from. I daresay I am no lightweight.”  
Sophie gave Brenna a nervous smile, “She'll drink you under the table, Marnie.”  
Brenna gripped the bottle tight. If her father found out Sophie wasn't staying with her parents while she went to college, he would likely change his mind about letting her room with Sophie for spring semester....if there would in fact be a spring semester for her.  
“Go on then,” Marnie poked Brenna in the side.  
With a grimace, Brenna tipped the bottle to her lips.

At the end of and hour and a half, Brenna was lying on the floor staring up at the ceiling, head to head with Sophie who lay adjacent in the same position. On the couch beside them, Marnie snored softly.  
“So he just showed up without warning? The portal opened up and he steps out like, hey how are ya? What an asshole.”  
Brenna shrugged, feeling the carpet pull uncomfortably at her sweatshirt, “He came to find me. Whyfor is he an asshole?”  
Brenna felt Sophie shift, her hand groping about until it found Brenna's forehead, “Have you got a fever or something? You remember the shit he pulled while he was in college and you were still in school? You talked to him last spring and he said he was still seeing that Gina chick wasn't he? What happened with her huh?”  
Brenna crossed her arms though they fell quickly to her sides again. After his father had been taken to prison, Chase became a different person. When he'd graduated and left the school for college, they'd argued incessantly. He'd be too busy either with schoolwork or his job at a small finance firm to visit her at the school. When they'd have time to spend together, he'd always bring her to the frat parties where often enough he would get mad at one of the party goers for looking at her or fielding some imagined slight and a fight would ensue. The day she had Sophie bring her to the college as a surprise and found him hand in hand with another woman ran a close second to being the worse day of her life.  
Still, she couldn't admit she wasn't thrilled to be back in his arms again.  
“He left her after he talked to me in April. He says it was a defining moment for him. He realized how very much he had missed me. How very much he loved me.”  
“Mmm,” Sophie grunted, “Either that or she dumped him.”  
“Sophie, you cast dispersions upon his love for me? How unfair.”  
Sophie reached above her head to pat Brenna's cheeks, “Oh honey it's not you. It's him. I just don't want to see you hurt again. Besides, if he's there in....,” Sophie lifted her head to look at Marnie and whispered, “Asgard, and you're here going to college, isn't it sorta going to be the same thing all over again?”  
“This is what I meant to speak with you about, “ Brenna shut her eyes, “I am torn between returning in the spring to start college and staying...home with Chase.”  
Sophie sat up, turned over to her knees and loomed over Brenna, staring into her upside down face, “Wait a minute. We're going to college together remember? Fuck the men. You're going to be a nurse and I'm going to be an architect.”  
“What good will I be as a nurse in Asgard?” Brenna sat up nearly connecting with Sophie's forehead, “I have asked myself this question time and again.”  
“You said you would stay here to live on Earth. Here you can do a ton of good and maybe....,” Sophie tapped Brenna's temple, “We can figure out a way to fix that glitch in your head. They come up with new advances in the field of medicine every day.”  
Brenna put her hands behind her neck. Her face felt fuzzy, “I know, I know. I love Midgard, I love you, Sophie. I love being here in New York with you thinking about going to college, learning all I can, walking the streets, shopping, going out, watching movies, eating the food I cannot get at home... Truly I do, but I love Asgard equally well....and I love Chase, no matter how you hate to hear it, I love him still and he loves me...”  
Sophie took Brenna's face in her hands, “Okay, alright, just lets try this. Let's go to the campus tomorrow and start enrolling you for spring semester because you can't wait until the last minute to register even....even if you change your mind. You wait until February and it'll be too late so give me that at least. If you decide you want to stay in Asgard with Mister Wonderful, so be it. If you decide a petrie dish and late night cramming for exams is more your style, you'll be ready too.”  
Brenna nodded, slowly then a bit stronger, “I will take your advice not only because you are right but because I want to see the campus in person. Maybe I shall decide you are the wiser of the two choices....for now....”  
“See, I make perfect sense,” Sophie pinched her cheeks, “And you can come to New York for New Year's eve. See it in person for the first time. By then you should be ready for a break from Chase.”  
Brenna smiled, “Or he shall be ready for a break from me.”

 

The aroma of fresh bread roused Colin from sleep. He lay there some time debating on joining the family for the morning meal or stealing out of the manor and heading straight to the longhouses. At last his grumbling stomach won out.  
The children were playing about Ingrid's feet as she helped Vesta set the table, Fen was already seated beside Helgi whispering something into her ear. His head in his hands, Loki sat beside Eidra who smiled at Colin as he approached the table. Loud laughter from Cait and Astrid hunched Loki's shoulders further forward as he groaned, “Eidra, I beseech you, settle the children.”  
Eidra rose from her chair, stuck her tongue out at his back, scooping up a giggling Astrid in her arms.  
“Brynn, come here. Cait, fetch your brother!” Ingrid called as she lifted Edie into a chair.  
Colin fought a smile as he pulled out the chair opposite Loki and sat down.  
Loki raised his head to stare at him, “Wine is a harsh mistress.”  
“Indeed it is, yer Highness,” Colin winked at Helgi who nodded her assent, casting a disapproving eye toward Loki.  
Gretten and Beth exited the kitchen with serving plates, setting them on the sideboard behind Loki.  
“Your Highness, Miss Chapel has prepared a special Midgardian dish for the family this morning.”  
“Mmm,” Loki waved a hand at him, “Very well.”  
Eidra, sitting beside him with Astrid in her lap, sighed loudly, turning to Gretten, “How delightful, whatever is it called?”  
“Strata, Milady,” Beth replied, “My mother makes it all the time. It's an egg bread pudding type of dish. It can be sweet or savory. I've prepared both types....along with the usual fare for those of you who aren't interested...”  
“Nonsense,” Helgi lifted her plate and handing it forward, “I for one should like to try something new.”  
Gretten and Beth retrieved the plates, aided by Vesta, until all were served, Beth placing Colin's plate beside him as she leaned down to whisper in his ear, “Did I hear you right last night? Simon asked to stay in Asgard?”  
Colin gave an imperceptible nod, “Mmmhmm.”  
Colin looked up from his plate to see Gretten glaring at Beth from across the room. When he caught Colin's eye, he grinned widely, taking a mug in hand, pouring a stream of rich brown cider into it.  
“And they let him?”  
“Not now,” Colin mumbled, “Not here.”  
She hurried away, returning to Gretten's side. Colin watched them, their heads together as they exchanged a heated flurry of fiercely delivered whispers. As much as he hated to admit it, Loki was probably right. The majority of people coming here to Asgard would likely go home at the end of their stint but there were those like Simon, Beth...even himself, who were becoming increasingly reluctant to leave with each passing day, though he wondered if he had overstayed his welcome after the previous evening's events.  
“Colin.”  
He paused, his fork midway to his mouth, “Yer Highness?”  
“I would ride with you to the longhouses today.”  
Colin nodded, “As you wish.”  
Eidra gave him an encouraging smile as he brought the fork to his lips. Maybe he hadn't made a complete and total cock up of the whole operation after all....just maybe....


	47. 47

_Assignment: 64379-01  
Location: Asgard_

_Agent: Colin M. Denehy  
Date: 10/10/29_

_Snow. Before December. Snow....just a slight dusting mind you but enough to remind us that winter is at hand. A far cry from the unseasonable warmth a few days ago when Loki and I rode to the longhouses. I was certain he was going to tell me where to get off. We started down the road on the horses and at first it was a silent ride. I could see he was still struggling with the aftereffects of the wine and so being the fool I am, I finally opened my big gob YET again.  
“Your Highness,” I says, “I was after understanding you swore off wine.” Then I waited for him to lash at me with his riding crop. Instead he laughs, grimaces.   
“I charged Gretten this very morn with locking up the manor's cellar if e'er he found me in such a state. He asked me what he should do were I to order him fetch me a bottle. I told him he should stand his ground and receive a gold coin for his stalwart effort when my mood passed.”  
I allowed as how bracing oneself against his foul moods deserved more of a medal than a gold coin. What the hell, I was thinking he was ready to send me packing to the encampment anyhow, so what was there to lose in speaking my piece? Therein he surprised me yet again.  
“There are few in my family who are able to weather my dark humors. I beg your forgiveness for my outburst this evening last. I confess I was struck with a deep melancholy after you retired to bed. You have proved time and again your great affection for my family. My rage was sorely misdirected upon you when I expressed my extreme distrust for your Director Fury and the agency you call S.H.I.E.L.D. The gods bless my wife for showing me the error of my ways. I am certain, because you hold my family in such high regard, you would tell me were the consequences of Simon's actions to bring harm to them and so I believe you when you claim that you know nothing more of Simon's whereabouts.”  
You coulda knocked me off Agathon with a wink. I felt obliged, after Loki's confession, to allow as I agreed in part with Stark's cautionary tale though I couldn't give him any details because I knew precious little myself. After New York and then S.H.I.E.L.D's ...um...internal restructuring, only top level agents were privy to classified information and even they had their blind spots.   
Stark seemed to have sprouted a few more gray hairs overnight. He would only say he'd talked to Fury but when I asked him what Fury said about Simon's stunt he shook his head, wide eyed. When he was able to corner me alone for a moment later in the day, he told me he hadn't said anything to Fury about Simon defecting. When I asked him why, he faltered, kinda looked gobsmacked that he'd said anything to me in the first place then threw his hands in the air.  
“Ya know what? Okay. Because if I were to tell him I'd lost track of my chief physicist on the project, best case scenario? I'd be sitting at home in my beach house in Malibu, enjoying the sunrise with Miss Potts and don't get me wrong, there's absolutely nowhere else I'd like to be at this moment but if I was off the project, someone would have to replace me and more likely than not it would be Fury, with a shitload of special ops trained to track and extract personnel. Call it an overblown sense of responsibility but I'm the one who started the development of these portals. I don't want to see Asgard torn apart by military operations and I most certainly do not want to start an interstellar war. As long as he doesn't find out through other means, we're golden.”  
Other means, says he. What other means, says I. Then again in January, the second group will be ready to return to Earth. They'll know about Simon. When they're debriefed, they'll do just as they're supposed to. They'll talk....  
Maybe defection would be a better option.  
Maybe the portals were a bad idea...._

_In other news....Brenna is expected back home tomorrow. Beth has latched onto the idea of asylum and you know what? I've encouraged it, fuck them all. She's not an agent, she's a senior in college, a student. We have obligations to our job, but if she wants to stay here with Gretten so be it. I'm prohibited by my position to advise her upon a course of action though I told her in detail what Simon wrote in his letter to the King. Objection, yer honor....I call leading the witness....objection upheld....guilty as charged.  
Oh! And wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles....I came down to breakfast yesterday and found Hal sitting at the bottom of the stairs staring off into space. I dropped down beside him. Eliciting no response, I waved my hand before his face.  
“What seems to be the trouble, my good valet?”  
Deadpan he replied, “Vesta is with child.”  
I clapped him on the back, “Good on ya. I thought you said she couldn't have children.”  
Hal nodded slowly, “And so we were led to believe. All these seasons, we expected she was barren...until now....”  
I kept my mouth shut about the possibility of illness being the cause for her interrupted menses. I'd rather be on the side of the angels with this one. I congratulated him. I'm curious as to the changes pregnancy will bring to the shy silent Vesta. Could get interesting.  
Loki has informed me there will be games in the public arena at the palace in Asgard before Winternights and that he and his brother will join in. He entreated me to compete as well, listing such events as wrestling, grappling, weight lifting, Toga hӧnk, a type of tug of war...., Skinnleikr, a keep away game involving a rolled up animal hide....then there were the more serious events like sparring and sword play where it isn't uncommon for players to lose their lives. I told him I wasn't much of an athlete although perhaps I could be persuaded to join in a tug of war.  
It's getting closer to Yuletide. Though I've come to love this place, I will admit I've sorely missed the old sod....and me Ma and Da and Grandad. It'll be nice to see them again if only for a week...for now though...it's back to business...._

 

“I told ye the water looked brackish.”  
Simon pulled the heavy bearskin robe tighter around him, seeking to still his chattering teeth, block out Lelia's admonitions.  
Another voice, floating in and out of his periphery, “Men, they'll not listen to ye...here now, see if ye can't get this down his gullet, 'twill ease the fever, purge the evil humours from him.”  
A soft cool hand touched his cheek, raised his head, a cup was pressed to his lips, “Open yer mouth, ye stubborn man child.”  
Warm liquid trickled down his throat, sweet and bitter altogether, silky on his tongue and he coughed, making to push the cup away from him.  
“Ah no, swallow it.”  
He managed to take in enough of the vile brew to satisfy Lelia who let his head back to the down pillow.  
“There ye go. I've sent my youngest for the village physician, he will bring potions. He's seen the effects of bad water many a time.”  
Simon opened his eyes, looked up at Lelia who knelt beside the pallet he had been laid upon. A heavyset short middle aged woman in a plain dress, her hair in a kerchief, stood slicing a loaf of bread at a long table in the common room beyond.  
He grasped feebly at Lelia's sleeve and she placed her hand on his forehead though she kept her attention on the heavyset woman.  
“So, ye said yer on yer way to Alfheim is it?”  
“Aye,” Lelia nodded, “Me husband has family there.”  
Simon grunted, made to sit up, catching Lelia's glare, “Lie still, now. Let the posset ease yer fever.”  
“Family? Tell me now, what clan does he lay claim to?”  
Lelia chewed her lip, “Ah....Melos's clan.”  
The woman put a hand on her hip, stood straight, “Melos? He's high born then? Ye've a way to go. If I recall right, they reside near the far western border near Muspelheim.”  
Shouts from outside brought the woman's head about.  
“I will tan their hides, I swear to it!” she muttered as she threw the door wide, striding outside, hollering at the top of her lungs, “Zacar! Let go of yer brother or I'll warm yer backside with me bread paddle!”  
“Husband?” Simon rasped, “What...are...?”  
Lelia leaned over to Simon's ear to speak in a whisper, “Listen and mark my words. If or when yer people come looking for ye, they'll not be searching for a husband and wife will they? So if anyone is asked, sure their answer will not point to us.”  
Simon nodded, “Wise woman.”  
“And ye'd be wise to remember this,” Lelia sat back, caressed his cheek. He wanted to press her hand to his face, hold it there but couldn't find the strength to move, “Besides, 'tisn't proper for an unmarried man and woman to travel without a companion, at least here in Asgard.”  
At the sound of returning footsteps, Lelia sat back on her heels again as the woman sailed back inside.  
“Those boys will be the end of me. Forgive the interruption,” she bent over the iron pot hanging half over the flames in the fireplace, “Melos's clan...aye that's what we were on about. Ye married into a rich clan. Were ye an arranged marriage if I might be so bold?”  
“We were, that, but we knew one another afore we were joined,” Lelia smiled at Simon, earning a chuckle from the woman.  
“Ah so love made a fine accessory along with the dowry? 'Tis a rare thing especially with such disparate ages.”  
Simon made to raise his head though the room spun about, “My good lady, exactly how old.....,” his head dropped back to the pillow, “...do you...take me for....?”  
The woman straightened up, walked over to peer down at him, “I'd bet ye were forty seasons if I were the gambling type which I don't claim to be.”  
“Jesus Christ,” Simon muttered....”Forty...”  
“Now what does that mean?” The woman tilted her head, cast a curious look at Lelia who glared at him as she took his hand, giving it a hard squeeze.  
“Ah, 'tis a friend of his. He can lay claim to such a ripe age. Ye will fergive me mate. His head is clouded with fever.”  
“Mmmm, yes,” Simon mumbled, “My thirty-one year old head.”  
The woman wrinkled her nose at him, “Such strange words ye speak. Ye've done a fair bit of traveling about the realms have ye?”  
Simon opened his mouth to speak again, spied Lelia's face which was as red as her hair and promptly clamped his lips together tightly. Not another word would he utter, not even under pain of death....or Lelia's temper...which was worse.  
“He is well traveled, ye can be sure of that...,” Lelia stood from her place beside the pallet, following the woman back to the iron pot.  
“And how old be ye, me dear?....” the woman assessed her, “If ye don't mind my asking.”  
Lelia glanced down to the floor at her feet. Her da had always lamented she'd not decided upon a suitor before her aunt had proclaimed her to follow in her footsteps as the next seer.  
 _“Ye've waited too long child,”_ he'd moaned on the day a party of palace guards came to collect her, _“I begged ye....I warned ye....”_  
“One and twenty seasons.”  
The woman bent down again to stir the contents of the pot, “I'd been a mother to Zacar two seasons with another on the way at yer age. Are ye settling down in Alfheim then? 'Tis never too early to start a brood. Leave the traveling to the merchants and the nobles....,” she lifted the spoon to her lips, taking a sip, “Ah....a bit more salt is what it'll want....as I said, leave the traveling to those who lay claim to no bed. Safer to be among yer kin these days.”  
A fit of coughing behind Lelia made her turn quickly to kneel beside Simon, a bowl to his cheek as he rose up on one elbow to vomit cloudy water into it.  
“See now. He'll be on his feet come morning. Truth be told, I'm glad of a bit of company . Me husband isn't expected for half a fortnight. He should be home in time for the hunt. I feel safer with ones me own age to swell our numbers. Even though Zacar is thirteen seasons, he is a gentle soul. Bravery would befit Bern, my youngest...”  
“My....gods,” Simon gasped, clutched at his stomach as it contracted again and he gagged over the bowl, wracked with dry heaves, “I'll not be surprised to see my insides on the outside before long. What in the world was I thinking?”  
He fell back to the pillow, draped his arm over his eyes, raised it again, “And I am sweating like a bloody pig....”  
“Fever's broke,” Lelia stood up with the bowl in hand, “Count yerself lucky.”  
She trudged outside with the bowl, returning a moment later to set it with a loud thunk on the cobblestone floor beside him before she rejoined the woman at the fireplace.

By moonrise, he was well enough to sit up on the pallet and feed himself a bowl of rabbit stew. Even if he'd been a drooling, half conscious, lump, he doubted Lelia would have bothered to help him. She sat at the table with the woman, whose name he'd found was Gretna, and her two sons, Zacar and Bern, pointedly ignoring him for the rest of the evening until it was time to retire.  
“The boys will take the pallets tonight. Ye will have their bed, that is if ye think ye can climb up to the loft, Jorgan.”  
Simon looked at Lelia then back to Gretna once, twice before he noticed Lelia's face turning crimson again and he stuttered a reply, “Oh...um....sorry. I was daydreaming....or night dreaming...ha...as it were,” he gazed up at the loft above their heads, “We're fine with the pallets, honestly. You've been a gracious host. We couldn't ask you to give up a bed.”  
Gretna waved a plump hand at him as she handed a lantern to Lelia, “ 'Twould be poor hospitality to do otherwise. Off with ye now. There'll be heavy blankets at the end of the bed.”  
Simon took a deep breath and started up the ladder at one end of the loft, half expecting Lelia to remain down in the common room but soon enough he felt the ladder sag as she followed along behind him. When he reached the loft, he knelt down to take the lantern from Lelia but she refused his assistance, setting the lantern down on the floor and pulling herself up to the loft.  
Simon moved away from the edge of the loft floor and put his hands on his hips.  
“Right then...I'll take the floor. You wouldn't begrudge me a blanket would you?”  
Lelia scowled at him, a finger to her lips as she strode up to him.  
“If ye don't lie down and keep yer propriety to yerself,” she hissed, “ 'Twill be a shroud ye'll be pulling up to yer chin!....,” she stalked over to the bed and threw the coverlet open, “...Husband!”  
She sat down on the bed and began to pull off her boots while he stood there, mouth open, arms at his side until she glanced over her shoulder at him, “Well?”  
Impossible, it was going to be impossible to sleep next to her and yet he was sitting down on the other side of the bed, removing his own boots. She lay down, her back to him, pulling the coverlet over her.  
“Fetch the other blanket too.”  
He stood up, shook out the heavy blanket, added it to the coverlet, and sat back down, staring out across the common room to the cottage door.   
“Lay.....down...”  
He slipped beneath the covers and lay on his side facing away from her, his body tense, listening to her even breathing, the whispers of the boys laying on the pallets before the fireplace, watching the flame flickering inside the lantern.  
“I'm sorry,” he whispered, lay there, waiting. When there came no response, he sighed, “I really am. You don't have to continue this journey with me, hell I don't even know if I can continue this journey myself....”  
“Have we not been over this again and again? I'm here of me own will if it's only to save ye from yerself...”  
She paused, sniffed and he cursed himself as she whispered hoarsely, “ 'Tis so hard to be traveling to the gods know where without knowing what we're supposed to be on about when we arrive...or how long we'll be on the road...we need more rations and I've only a couple coins left...”  
“God...damn....gods...see I'm no good at this. Don't cry, please, Lelia. Tomorrow we'll head back to Asgard...I'll turn myself in for disciplinary action...you can return to your Aunt...”  
The bed sagged as she rose up, leaned over his shoulder, “Fine, ye turn tail and head back to yer half life. I'll continue on to Alfheim as I'm meant to do.”  
Simon looked up at her, “Alone...I mean seriously? Alone?”  
She nodded, a grim smile rising to her lips, “Someone has to see this through....hasn't she?”   
Lelia dropped back to the mattress, facing away from him again.  
“But you just said we're nearly broke, the journey is well nigh an impossible undertaking and now you claim you're going to go it alone if I leave off for Asgard? Lelia, you have too much faith in my ability to adapt to this...realm. It almost gives me the strength to carry on...”  
Her body shifted as she pressed her back to his. He closed his eyes, dug his fingernails hard into his palms, praying, wondering how she couldn't feel the thunder of his heart.  
“An' that be enough,” she murmured.  
After some time, lulled by her closeness, her warmth, he drifted off to sleep, his last thought, that he would walk the whole of the nine realms if it meant he could stay in this moment, locked in time, by her side for the rest of his days.


	48. 48

“Out! The lot of you!”   
Eris stumbled to the side, narrowly avoiding the two men on their way out the front door of the tavern, accompanied by a stern looking Perth.  
“And don't never darken the doorstep of the Oak and Thistle again, ya ken?”  
Perth turned about to face the interior of the tavern, laced his fingers together and pushed them outward with a loud crackle, “Now that is how I treats malcontents here in the city.”  
The tavern, which had gone deathly silent as Perth shuttled the two over sodden soaks out the door, resumed its busy buzz as a smile split Perth's mouth wide. He winked at Eris, “Leastways ya wasn't carrying no ale this time.”  
“Thank the gods,” she muttered as they headed for the long bar at the back of the large room where Neve was waiting for them. Perth slid behind the bar, elbowing a tall blond out of the way, “C'mon Willa, shows over. See to th' paying customers.”  
Willa glared at Perth as Neve hurried over to Eris, “They was lucky Master Perth didn't bust 'em heads together wasn't they?”  
“Yeah they were,” Eris favored her with a smile. Ever since she'd come to work at the Oak and Thistle a few weeks past, the serving girl, Neve had attached herself to her side, likely stemming from the small acts of kindness Eris had shown the girl when she'd been newly hired on. At first, Eris had been startled by the girl's appearance, her coal black skin, eyes the color of blue ice, snow white hair and pointed teeth, she'd introduced herself as a dark elf...  
“...From Svartelheim. My parents was with a band of raiders who were captured and killed. I was no more than a babe in arms. I was brought to the tavern by the guards, foisted off on Perth's mama and papa, raised with his sister until I was old enough to work here in the tavern.”  
Eris had allowed as how she'd have waited to gut Perth's family in their sleep if she'd come here under such circumstances but Neve shrugged, “I didn't know no better being a baby. Besides, they weren't the ones who did my family in. I have no hatred for them. They clothe, feed and shelter me. I have a few coin a week for myself...,” she gazed at Eris, “And now I have a friend.”  
Eris wrapped an arm about Neve's shoulders, “I might better get ready for the evening show...you want to help me with those damn veils?”  
“Oh yes!”  
She smiled at Neve as they sailed past the bar where Willa cast them a scathing look. As Eris expected, word of her dancing spread about the realm and soon the Hammer and Serpent was busier than it had ever been. Every other night, men or women, sometimes both, would approach Bard, offering good money to take her off his hands. Bard would laugh in their faces, wave them away as she shook her tits in the face of a drooling patron, collecting her own small pile of coins. Sure she missed Earth, missed it like crazy when she wanted to call Alex and talk about the crazy day she had. Maybe that was why she liked Neve, even if she couldn't talk to her about Earth, she could talk to her about Asgard.  
Her time at the Hammer and Serpent came to an abrupt end one late night. Bard, deep in his cups, had been coaxed into a game of dice with a few of the patrons, one of them being the owner of the Oak and Thistle, Perth. He'd gambled and won a tidy sum from Bard. She'd sat on the bar watching Bard grow angrier with every toss of the dice until he slammed his meaty fists on the table and shoved away from it.  
“That's all I've got, ya troll's pizzle! Were't me, I'd say ya had weighted the dice...”  
Perth was a giant of a man, broad shouldered, hair cut close to his head, face that had seen more than one fight in his life, crooked nose and a genuine smile that mixed it all together into the funniest look she'd ever seen. Even then, she'd had to clap her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.  
“Coin's coin, Bard. I'm simply better'n you at the game..,” he cast an eye toward the bar and winked at her, “However, I'll make one final wager with ya....”  
“Ah told you, I've got no more coin to wager with,” Bard leaned over him, “Ya have got it all before ya.”  
Perth held up a finger, “...and you'll have it back in your hands in due course. If you beat me this next round, I'll give up the coin, all of it and be on me merry way. If I win's, I'll give ya back your coin but the dancer is mine.”  
“Arrhhh!” Bard cried, slapping his hands atop his greasy hair, “Rogue! You traitorous cheat! This was your ploy all along, wan't it....”  
He stood there, seething, his eyes slipping to the coins, back to her to the coins again. Fish had wandered out from the kitchen to watch them, a half dried mug in his hand. Perth gave her a great grin and she had to laugh aloud though Bard fixed her with a deadly scowl.  
Finally Bard dropped into the chair opposite him again, “Ya have your wager but we'll not be using these die...”  
“Or yours..,” Perth shook his head, “In fact, let this be a true challenge, fair and square..,” he thumped his elbow on the table, bent his arm up, “First one whose knuckles touch the wood loses.”  
Bard was sweating, rivulets dripping down the side of his face as he settled his elbow on the table and clasped hands with Perth.  
“A side wager?” Fish poked her in the arm.  
“How much?”  
“Five silver says Perth wins.”  
Eris had turned to Fish, “You mean to say you're betting against your own boss? That's low....and useless....I think he's going to win too. Can't make the same bet, cancels it out.”  
Fish shrugged, nodded his head toward the men.  
“Eris, come be a witness,” Bard grunted, “At your mark.”  
Eris dropped from the bar, sauntered over to the table where she bent over and kissed the top of Bard's hand, “May the best man win.....go!”  
Back and forth they drifted, Bard looking as if he was working toward a heart attack, Perth stone faced for the most part though a ghost of that goofy smile drifted to his lips each time he brought Bard's hand closer to the table.  
All at once, Perth grunted, brought Bard's hand flat to the wood and sat back as Bard jumped from his chair.  
“Take 'er then! Take her! You'll have no end of trouble with the wench. She's headstrong, foul mouthed, ungrateful! Take her and damn ya to Hel but I'll bet ya double, you'll be shuttling her back to the Hammer and Serpent inside of a fortnight!”  
Perth shoved the pile of coins toward Bard, stood up and took Eris's hand, bussing it generously, “I doubt it. My tavern is the finest establishment in the city proper and I keep me staff well appointed. More than like, you'll be coming to me for a job inside of that very same fortnight.”  
The city? She could hardly contain her glee. She hadn't even been hoping this time around and now here she was heading to Asgard. She'd been itching to move up to the big time. This was simply dumb luck. She ran up the stairs to her room in the attic, gathered her satchel, gowns, coins, books and was back downstairs within five minutes to follow Perth out the door. She almost felt sorry for Fish, he was probably going to bear the brunt of Bard's anger for days to come but it was every woman for herself and Fish had been foul to her in the past so she was glad to see the Hammer and Serpent disappear into the distance as she sat behind Perth on his grey stallion.  
And Perth had been true to his word, especially when her talents started to pull in more patronage than his tavern could manage. She was given a fine room in the tavern nowhere near the kitchen or the servants quarters though she often worked right alongside Willa and Neve, serving ale, cider, amusing the patrons, in more ways than one, from time to time. Nothing had changed about the job she was expected to do but her situation had certainly improved in the month and a half since she'd arrived. She was a step up from a common whore but it was an important step. Here, her unique style, her beauty, her sheer determination to keep moving up the ladder had paid off as it never could have back home. She had already stashed away a sizable amount of coins that, if brought back to earth, would have set her up pretty comfortably being gold and silver with some copper for smaller jobs. When business was good, Perth made sure tips rose accordingly.   
Whenever she was slated to perform, Perth had taken to sending a herald through the streets with a placard. So well did the young boy attend to his duties, he caught the attention one evening of the Captain of the Royal Guard, who followed him back to the Oak and Thistle. A stern young man by the name of Silas, he was broad chested, with arms the size of her thigh, a close cropped shock of red hair and a look that she swore could have split solid rock. He was one of the few men she'd ever met who seemed unmoved by her performance even when she ground herself against his hip, tucking one of her removable silk scarves into the edge of his belt. He'd removed it with a grunt, dropping it to the floor, fixing Perth with a dour look before he strode out into the night.  
There were more perks to the job as well. One morning, awakened early by the crow of a wandering rooster she rose, choosing to wander the cobbled streets of the city, familiarizing herself with the layout, scouting rival taverns to assess their potential when she found herself in the great square near the main entrance to the palace. She stood for a long time, watching the sun creep into the sky over the parapets, washing the large fountain in the center with golden light before she began to retrace her path. The sound of laughter along with the sharp repeat of horseshoes on stone made her pause, look over her shoulder.  
Across the square, dismounting from his horse was Prince Loki. She moved to the edge of the fountain to watch him, spellbound once more by his grace in form, his regal bearing, his incredibly handsome face, tight body, perfect ass....yep, he even had a fine backside. There wasn't an angle he could show that didn't have something to admire. She pulled her cloak tight around her shoulders, forcing her courage to the surface as she started across the square to greet him. She wasn't clear on protocol when greeting a royal in this realm but on Earth, a curtsey and a proper title was always acceptable. At least she could kiss his ring or some damn thing, get him to lay eyes on her again.   
The sound of more hoofbeats slowed her pace as another horse trotted through the arch to pull short beside Loki. Like an arrow, she darted around the fountain, putting the gold centerpiece of an old man between her and the two men. If Colin saw her, she was as good as gone. She crouched down into a squat behind the rim, hoping none of the shop owners or cart vendors who were wandering about, setting up for the day would ask her if she needed help. At this point, she would probably growl at them. People tended to avoid the insane like they were a disease. She held her breath, turned and peeked over the rim of the fountain's edge where she saw, to her horror, Colin and Loki standing feet away from her on the other side of the fountain. She was stuck, at least until they went into the palace or played “Here we go Round the Mulberry Bush” about the fountain and caught her but they stood merely looking up at the statue.  
“Do you believe Simon will return to the encampment after he has found what he is searching for?” Loki mused.  
Simon? Simon Foster, second in command on the portal project....if her memory served her well. He was missing?  
“Either he'll return or he'll like it enough to stay. Go native as it were,” Colin replied, “I mean, it's not like he's committed a crime per se. Asking for asylum isn't an act of treason. Of course more often than not it's politically motivated but Simon isn't the type to dabble in politics. No, there's more to it than I think we know.”  
“And tell me, have you reconsidered joining in the games?”  
“I said I'd play a bit of tug o' war, maybe the odd caber toss or some other feat of strength but I'm not going to face off with Asgard's finest. I think they might get a right kick out of taking down a Midgardian....”  
Their voices had started to fade. Once again, she took the chance to peek over the edge of the fountain where she saw them walking back toward the palace doors where two guards stood at attention waiting for them.  
The games. He would be at the games Perth had been talking about. So would Colin, maybe even some of the other members of the group but she could always cover herself up with a cloak, dirty her face with a bit of mud. Unless she met Colin face to face or, maybe Buzzy, she doubted anyone else would remember what she looked like. She shuddered to imagine the prince, done up in leather and metal, wrestling, sword fighting, sweating, bloody, straight out of a scene from that old show Global Gladiator...well maybe without the blood and leather...Asgardian Gladiator. She giggled into her hands as she leaped to her feet and ran from the sq uare, arriving a short time later at the Oak and Thistle winded, yet renewed in her original mission to be on Loki's arm no matter what the cost.  
Now, she would rise early each morning, take a walk to the square, trying to catch a glimpse of Loki as he arrived at the palace then hurry back to the tavern to help set up for the day. Once Neve caught her returning and asked her where she was off to so early. Like a fool, Eris took the eager young woman into her confidence, telling her she was watching for Prince Loki arrive at the palace. From then on, every scrap of information about the Prince Neve could get her hands on, she would feed to Eris who had to wonder what was truth and what was mere gossip. She had to give the girl credit. She was nothing if not loyal. In return, Eris would share her bed on occasion with Neve, especially when the odd determined patron had treated the dark elf poorly.  
It was already too late for Eris to advise Neve to run back to her people while she still could, she could see it in her eyes, had seen it in the faces of many a dancer, more than a few whores. This life was all the girl now knew. She would be an outcast among her people. Here she was an oddity, an exotic fruit to be sampled. When Eris finally gained prince Loki's favor, she promised herself she would take Neve with her....or try, in the very least...she'd learned to be pretty convincing with a man when he was laying on top of her and the prince, underneath his finery, his cultured upbringing, was still just that....a man...

 

“Close your eyes, Mama,” Brenna called over her shoulder as she rummaged about in her trunk, taking out a box wrapped in brown paper and setting it in Eidra's lap.  
“Oh Brenna. You did not use your coins foolishly did you?” Eidra clucked her tongue though she eagerly undid the tape holding the paper together.  
“Mama, you know coin of the realm is not accepted on Midgard. Sophie let me borrow some money. She would not take my coins because she could not turn them into paper currency without attracting attention, so she claimed. I must find a way to return the favor. I shall ask Mister Stark, perhaps he may take the gold in exchange for Midgardian credit..go on take the top off.”  
Eidra lifted the lid of the box and gasped, “New yarn! Look at the colors...and new needles? Poppet, really this is too much.”  
Brenna waved at her as she dug into the trunk again, “Mama, hush. Let me do for you when I can. I love to watch you knit.”  
“But I have wool aplenty...,” Eidra took out a skein of brilliant crimson, running her hand along the fibers with a sigh.  
“And yet you love the different colors, the softness....what is taking Papa with the horses? I can wait no longer. I was fair to bursting on the ride home.”  
Loki strode into the sitting room, his cloak over one arm, Fen and Cait close behind him. “Forgive me, I had help putting the wagon away,” he cocked a thumb at Cait who raced over to Brenna for a quick hug before she leaned halfway into the trunk to stare into its depth.  
“Did you bring presents back, Bren?”  
Brenna sat back on her heels, a mock scowl on her face, “I would think having your sister back home is present enough.”  
“Mmmhmm,” Cait's voice echoed as she bent further into the trunk, “What did you bring me?”  
“Cait,” Eidra scolded as Brenna shook her head.  
“Not to worry, Mama. She knows I forget no one,” Brenna leaned over beside Cait to lift out a paper bag, “Here you are. Ration them wisely, mind you.”  
Cait opened the bag, reached in and pulled up a handful of brightly wrapped hard candy.  
“Sweets, a whole bag of them. If Mama takes charge, they should last you until my next visit..”  
“And that would be?” Loki approached to stand over her.  
“New Years, Papa. Sophie wanted me to come watch the crystal ball descend in Time's Square.....now Cait, there are chocolate bars, sour worms, filled hard candies, swedish fish...oh so many different sorts. You would not believe the shop I went to...,”  
“Bren,” Loki sighed as Brenna drew Cait close, whispered in her ear.  
“..but we will talk of it later.”  
Loki nudged Brenna with the toe of his boot as Eidra smiled up at him.  
One by one the presents were doled out. A baby doll for Astrid,   
“It is called a Cabbage patch doll... quite popular on Midgard...,”  
A set of oversized plastic Lego blocks for Brynn, “....I was of a mind to bring him a toy truck,” she murmured to her mother, “...but Papa would surely have had a fit then,”  
A large square piece of glass suspended on two corners by a string for Helgi, “ 'Tis a magnifying glass so you might see to sew better.....oh my, do hold it up to your face again!”  
A few bolts of cloth for Sally, “Have ye ever seen the likes of this? Bren wherever did ye find such grand patterns?”  
A new bowstring, wax and arrows for Fen, “The string is weatherproof. It will last far longer than sinew....or so the store clerk claims...one wonders whether he had ever touched a bow in his life...”   
Brenna dug into the bottom of the trunk, “Of course I could not forget the man of the house.”  
“But my dear sister, you have already done so much for me,” Fen teased.  
“I shall keep your status in mind when next Eldred needs help shoveling out the stables,” Loki clapped him on the shoulder as Brenna lifted up a small package.  
“Papa, I know how...oh, fussy is not the correct term...picky....,”  
“Particular?” Eidra chimed in, “Would this be a fair assessment?”  
“Indeed, and more,” Brenna watched him, “and you admit to having everything you could ever want. However, there is something you do need.”  
He unfolded the brown paper. Lying in the middle was a green velvet pouch tied with a satin ribbon. With a raised eyebrow, he untied the ribbon and peered into the pouch, lifting out a long braided silver chain.  
“Now that I wear the Uruz, I know you greatly miss it. I wanted to replace it with something though I know nothing could ever compare to such a treasure.”  
The chain sparkled in the candle light as a grin spread across his lips, “It is lovely...and it is enough, poppet. You should not spend your coin so frivolously..”  
“Papa, they are gifts. I did not spend my coins unwisely,” Brenna closed the lid of the trunk.  
“Loki, hush,” Eidra rose from her chair, took the chain from his hand, “Lift up your hair so I may fasten it about your neck...oh...it looks beautiful against your skin.”  
Brenna clapped her hands together, “Oh and I have a new pan for Gretten. I do hope Beth shall show him what non stick means.”  
“Fen, come help carry the trunk upstairs,” Loki took one handle as Fen hurried to lift the other end.  
Brenna watched them trudge up the stairs then rushed to Eidra, “Mama, after I give Gretten his gift, I wish to ride to the encampment to see Chase. Would you tell Papa I am gone after the fact?”  
Eidra chewed her lip, “Brenna, while you were away, a situation arose in the encampment which greatly troubles your father...,”  
“With Chase?” Brenna gasped.  
“No,” Eidra guided her toward the kitchen, “The scientist Simon Foster has requested asylum and is now roaming about somewhere in Asgard.”  
“Asylum? Good Freyr, asylum from Midgard? Whatever for?”  
“I cannot say, poppet. He claims ancestry to one of the dwarf clans of Nidavellir, ...”  
Brenna nodded, “I always thought he was a bit short. Did he not know of this before he came to Asgard?”  
“I know nothing save what he wrote in his letter to your uncle. Now go gift Gretten. I will upstairs to your father. Perhaps I might busy him with idle chat while I unpack your trunk but I beseech you do not be overlong. I want you at the table for evening meal.”  
“Yes, Mama,” Brenna kissed hr mother's cheek, hurrying away into the kitchen.  
“Is she never still?” Helgi grunted as Eidra sailed through the sitting room.  
“Youth favors the young,” Eidra called behind her, “She will settle down soon enough.”  
“One may only hope,” Helgi replied, holding the magnifying glass up to her face once again as the children laughed with glee.

 

“Yeah he just up and left. I didn't know a thing about it until morning. I was on second watch in longhouse two so I was dead asleep.”  
Brenna lifted her head from Chase's chest, “And no one knows where he has disappeared to?”  
Chase smiled down at her, “We have an idea but I can't say anything. It's not like we're going looking for him anyway. The big guy shut that down in a hurry....your uncle, I mean. No covert ops, no search and rescue. Just sit back and wait for Foster to resurface.”  
“Not a very well thought out plan,” she pulled him closer, “What if he is killed? Or taken prisoner? There are wars between the clans, long standing ones in which the bargaining chip of an ancestor would prove lucrative.”  
“Oh I bet. Mister Stark refuses to tell Fury about Simon's little vacation and as long as no one else says anything, we might be able to run below radar until Simon decides he's had enough. I can't see him staying out there in the wilderness for very long in the first place.”  
Brenna sat up, looked at the sunlight peeping through the thin gap of the tent flaps and reached to the floor for her jeans, “I have to return to the manor. I promised Mama I would be back for evening meal.”  
“I don't know why we couldn't just have a nice dinner here, the two of us.” Chase rolled over to his side to watch her dress.  
“Because I do not wish to upset my parents, not when I have only just arrived back home. Sooner or later, they will have to accept that we are once again seeing each other,” she paused, “..only let me choose the time for such an announcement.”  
“Okay, alright. You win,” Chase flopped back onto the cot as Brenna sat down beside him.  
“Tell me, what did you mean by saying you cannot see Simon out in the wilderness for very...unh...long,” she pulled one boot on, grabbed the other.  
Chase grinned up at her, “The guy's a neat freak. Got OCD pretty bad according to the guys in longhouse one. I guess it's gotten better but wow can you see a guy like that loose in Asgard?”  
“OCD....obsessive....mmm, blast my memory.” she stood from the cot.  
“...Compulsive disorder. Yeah that, I expect him to come crawling back to camp any day. Matter of time, I tell you...just a matter of time.”

 

Ice cold water filled his mouth, looking for the quickest passageway to his lungs. He pushed hard with a foot against the rocks of the riverbed breaking the surface of the water with a choked gurgle. He shoved the wet hair out of his eyes, coughing as he leaned into the breakneck current. Each step out into the river meant leaving the safety of his present position to search for another foothold. He looked a couple yards downstream again to where Lelia was braced against a large rock in the middle of the cataract. She was yelling to him, waving one arm toward the river bank. He shook his head. Stubborn girl, stubborn foolish girl. Maybe now she would listen to him. He wrapped the rope another couple times around his forearm and lifted his foot, muttering to himself.  
“Should have payed that bloody troll....”

“Well what about my penlight?” Simon squatted, his backpack open before him, the troll staring over his shoulder.  
“Penlight? Never heard a such a thing....it valuable?”  
“Davin, my love...he would have no use for such....things,” Lelia leaned over the opposite shoulder.  
It took him a moment to respond. They had devised so many new names for one another as an added layer of protection he never knew who he was until they woke up each morning. Still, was anyone to come looking for them, they'd made the task near to impossible or so he hoped but he was pretty sure if they hadn't picked him by now, they weren't going to.  
“Oh, ah...right sure. Um....well I've not much else. What about you dearest. Shall we give up our remaining few coin?”  
Lelia stood up, shook her head, “We've still a way to go. What if we're in a situation where we need them? Is it a chest of treasure ye've hidden in the pack I know nothing about?”  
The troll scratched his head, bending further over Simon's shoulder to peer into the pack, “Too small to hold much a anythin'. What about that bit a green glass just there?”  
“Uh, sorry. Not for sale,” Simon shoved the ship's prism further into his pack, and stood up to stare at Lelia, “So then how do you suppose we cross this river? It looks pretty deep and awfully cold.”  
Lelia shouldered her satchel, “And it is narrower in places. We'll find a place to cross,” she bowed to the troll who was slowly shaking his head, “Thank ye kindly.”  
“Be a far piece to find a safe place....reason why this bridge is here.”  
“Le.....Luna....listen to reason. Let's ask him for a lesser price....what if we run across the bridge...less wear and tear on the stones, eh?” Simon smiled at the troll who screwed his face together tight.  
“No, now come on with ye. We need to cross the river and find a place to rest afore nightfall.”  
Simon watched Lelia head up stream along the riverbank..  
The troll glanced at Simon, “Women are the bane of man's existence.”  
Simon looked at him, surprised at such words of wisdom, “Yes, yes they are. And yet we cannot seem to live without them. Good day to you.”  
“Good day...,” the troll raised a grimy hand, watching them out of sight before he added, “..and good luck.”

 

Simon had grown close enough now to hear her shouts.  
“Get ye back to the shore!! I'll let meself down....stream further...!”  
“Shut...up,” he gasped, “Next time we pay.... the blasted....t...troll!”  
The water was up to his chest, he could barely keep his feet against the rocks on the bottom but he was almost to her, and almost at the end of his rope....literally.  
“Foolish...m...man...ch...child,” she stuttered, exhaustion plain upon her face. If she let go of the rock, she would drown, he was sure of it.  
Finally he set his hand beside hers, pulling himself up to the rock to rest a minute.  
“Now when we start back, I want you facing me, your arms around my neck, do you understand? I'll walk us back to shore with the rope.”  
Lelia looked across the water to the riverbank, followed the rope to where he'd secured it around a small tree, “Ye've not the strength....,”  
“I made it out here didn't I?” Simon took a couple deep breaths, “Now, assume the position, woman.”  
She climbed from the high side of the rock to face him, her arms around his neck, “Simon....”  
“Shhh, are you ready?”  
“No...”  
“Deep breath..”  
The water took his feet from under him and for a moment, he was certain they were both lost but she'd found a secure spot and stood firm until he was upright again. Slowly, they inched across the river bed toward the bank. His muscles ached, shuddered with the strain of holding the rope but slowly they began to rise out of the rapids until they were waist deep, stumbling through half submerged rocks to flop down, spent, upon the dry grassy embankment.  
After long minutes, Simon sat up, unraveling the rope from his forearm, rubbing the skin where deep red marks had bloomed.  
“We've got to find somewhere to build a fire and get dry. It's been down to freezing at night.”  
Lelia, however, lay there beside him, staring up at the cloudless sky, “Simon.”   
“Yep?”  
“I'm sorry,” she sat up, “I should have listened to ye. We wouldn't be in the situation we are now. Wet, cold....”  
“Well, everything worked out didn't it? No harm, no foul.”  
She turned to stare at him, “We were nearly drowned an' ye say no harm?”  
“I should have had a better grip on you...so...so no...harm I say.”  
 _Stop looking at those green eyes....damn you, man!_  
She looked into her lap at her hands, “I swear to ye, I'll pay heed to yer advice. We'll return to the bridge and cross it proper.”  
“We will indeed,” Simon muttered, “Now I'll get some wood together....”  
She nodded though she kept her position, “Sure and I'll find us something to eat.”  
“Let me guess....rabbit?”  
“Unless ye know where to find a wild chicken?”   
“Pheasant, grouse, perhaps?”  
She giggled, put a hand on his arm, “I needs must teach ye to shoot a bow soon. After all, ye can't pretend a proper husband if ye know not how to hunt.”  
“I'm afraid I've done a right poor job at it overall, ”a quick grin shot to his face as he stood from the ground, giving Lelia his hand to pull her to her feet, grimacing at the aching protest from his body.   
She reached up, brushed his hair back from his face and strode upstream for a few feet before she pivoted about, returning to stand before him.  
“ 'Tis wrong ye are. Yer only wanting more practice at it.”  
All at once, she was inches from his face. With a sharp breath, Simon's hands came up to grip her forearms as their lips met, parted. He couldn't think, couldn't breath, was pretty sure he was going to have a major heart attack in fact as his senses exploded, infused with the scent of the surrounding forest, fresh water, her own musk, the taste of her tongue, birdsong, the soft purring moan from deep within his chest. He moved against her, felt her respond in kind and she stood back to stare into his eyes.  
“I've a confession....I've thought of kissing ye since ye followed me brother home to the farm.”  
“That....that...long?” Simon brought a hand to her cheek.  
“Aye. I wondered, would it feel different to kiss a Midgardian?”  
Simon frowned, stepped back, “So you decided to find out? Really?”  
Lelia followed him, laughing, “Simon, do ye think me so frivolous? I knew ye not then and so 'twas curiosity but this kiss was borne out of love,” She slid her arms around his waist, nestled her face into the crook of his neck, “Do ye feel the same, Simon Foster?”  
He nodded, slowly at first, until at last his mouth came unstuck, “Yes, emphatically, without a doubt, yes. Aye, affirmative...how else do you say it in this realm? Yes, I believe I've loved you ever since I watched you cut up that rabbit and you took me to task to gather firewood. I knew then I'd been searching for you all my life.”  
Lelia looked up at him, “Now how could ye be searching for me? Ye didn't know I existed, did ye?”   
“Figuratively, Lelia, it's ….,” reluctantly, he backed her away from him, “Look, we'll talk about all this later. Right now, we need a fire. I'm chilled through and so are you.”  
She leaned in again, kissed the tip of his nose and was off upstream. He bent down to fetch the end of the rope, coiling it in his hand, following along behind her, a smile upon his face.  
“Aunt Trena was right,” Lelia called over her shoulder, “This is my destiny.”


	49. 49

Colin appeared in the kitchen doorway just as Beth looked up from her tablet.  
“Getting out of the line of fire?”  
“Aye,” Colin walked over to the long worktable, set his mug of tea before him and sat down across from her, “They've both gone quiet now but for all of me, the stony silence is almost worse. I'm going to finish my cuppa then head to the longhouse.”  
Beth glanced down at her tablet, “Mmm, I'm going to finish up here and get to cleaning the kitchen. Gretten should be back from Cole by then.”  
Colin stole a look at the tablet, “Yer final paper?”  
“Yeah,” Beth punched the button atop the tablet once, twice, clucked her tongue, “Darn it.”  
Colin took a sip of his tea. With everything else going on, Simon's defection, the coming start up of portal two, the games, he was loathe to add another issue to the agenda but then Brenna had arrived back home a few days ago. He'd been changing into a fresh set of clothes upon his return from the longhouses and was heading downstairs when she met up with him outside her bedroom door. She'd given him a hug and they'd talked about the state of the household while she'd been on holiday. How the children had been behaving, Edie's continued progress, small talk. Then almost as an aside, she'd mumbled to herself, “I wonder how Beth is getting on?”  
The statement alone wasn't strange in and of itself but her reaction when he asked her what she meant told a different story.  
She'd blushed crimson, stammered a number of replies while he stood there, his arms crossed until she'd finally dragged him into her bedroom, confessing to him what Beth had told her.  
“She told me in confidence, Colin. Please, please do not make trouble for her!”  
Colin had shaken his head, “I'm thinking she's made her own trouble, wouldn't you agree?”  
Still, he was oddly nonchalant about it. He promised Brenna he wouldn't call her out. Hell, he hadn't called her out when he found out about her dalliance with Gretten in the first place but depending on how far along she was, when it came time for her to return to Earth, she'd cut a pretty obvious silhouette.  
“Final papers are a headache,” she sat staring at the blank tablet.  
“Mmmm.”  
The front door slammed shut, echoing throughout the house.  
“I'll bet it's Lord Loki who's off.”  
Beth rolled her eyes, “Naturally. Men always stuff their heads in the sand when there's an argument on. Pussies.”  
Colin chuckled, “Women are the stronger sex are they?”  
“Yup,” Beth threw her shoulders back, “My momma always said if men were the ones who had to have the babies, our species would have died out long ago.”  
It was as good an in as any.  
“Speaking of babies....,” he took another sip of his tea.  
To her credit, she was quick to realize what he was getting on about. Neither did she struggle for an excuse, cry, scream or carry on, merely put her head in her hands and let out a huge sigh.  
“News travels fast.”  
“That it does but don't judge her too harshly. It was a slip of the lip,” Colin set his cup down gently, “So what do you think I should do about this?”  
She shrugged, her forehead touching the table, “I don't know. I honestly don't know. Gretten's ready to follow me back to Earth if he has to but I'm going to bet I've got a better chance of being the next Queen of England before they'll grant him approval to leave Asgard.”  
“He's the family chef here. They'd be loathe to part with him, I'll wager but yer right if you think that'd not be the only problem.”  
The front door opened, slammed shut again, louder this time.  
“My time is up on New Year's eve,” Beth sat up, twirling her ring around her finger, “But if he's not coming with me, I'm staying.”  
Colin clapped his hands together, “That's grand. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to the longhouses.”  
He stood from the table, carrying his cup to the stone sink.  
“That's grand?” Beth twisted about on the bench, “That's all you have to say?”  
“Aye,” Colin walked back to the table where she now sat staring at him in disbelief, “Yer a big girl. You can make yer own decisions, right?”  
“Um.....” Beth put her hand over her stomach, “I can?”  
“Of course. You tell me how you want to proceed, I'll back you up. Deal?”  
Saying the words, he realized how wonderful it felt to throw caution to the wind. He held out his hand to her.  
A slow smile spread across her face as she reached her hand up to him, “Deal”  
As their hands met, a current of electricity danced across their palms and they both stared open mouthed at her hand.  
“What the fuck?”  
Beth let his hand go, bringing the ring close to her face, “This is the fifth time it's happened. What the hell does it mean?”  
Colin backed away from her, “It's glowed like that before?”  
“Mmmhmm and a strange looking crack appears in the center of the stone. I can't see it under normal circumstances.”  
Beads of sweat had broken out on Colin's forehead, “Odd. Must be.....be....something about the atmosphere perhaps. Maybe you should take it off.”  
Beth clasped her hand to her chest, “It's my grandmother's ring. It's not leaving my finger. I'll have to ask someone why it does that. I wonder would Loki know?”  
“Atmospheric....definitely atmospheric,” Colin nearly shouted at her, “I can have Stark do some tests on it...”  
“He'd dice it into little pieces!” Beth shove her hand beneath one plump buttock, “No thanks. The next time it happens, I'll show it to Loki.”  
“Okay, well.....suit yerself. I've got to be getting on..unh,” He'd backed into the wall, missing the doorway entirely, “Going to be late.”  
Once in the dining room, Colin stood staring at his hand. Perhaps Simon was right when he speculated they'd been drawn here for a higher purpose but where did Beth fit into it all? For a moment, he considered paying a visit to Trena upon his next trip to the palace, then the moment was gone. He took a deep breath, turned and headed through the sitting room to the foyer  
He laid his hand on the front door handle and was about to lift the latch, when a voice came from the second floor landing.  
“Where are you going?”  
He ran straight into the door before flopping around, his back against the wall. Eidra stood at the second floor railing, looking down at him. In her arms she held a congested Brynn, his cough thick watery.  
“Begging yer pardon, Milady but fecking hell, you scared me out of a year's growth!”  
She glided down the stairs to the foyer, setting Brynn down on the floor. Before she could address Colin however, Brynn was tugging at her skirt.  
“Mama, can I have a biscuit?”  
Eidra bent down, “You _may_ have a biscuit. Go ask Gretten. I shall be along in a moment.”  
Colin watched Brynn race from the room as Eidra called to him, “Do not run!”  
As if in answer, they heard a deep cough from the sitting room.  
“He's in a tight spot again, isn't he?” Colin tilted his head the way Brynn had gone.  
“He is,” Eidra turned to Colin, “Tell me. Are you participating in the games three days hence?”  
Colin wanted to bolt out the door, hop on Agathon and ride hard. He could well understand why Loki retreated to his horse when he was frustrated or confused. Racing down the road with a powerful steed between your thighs it almost felt possible to outrun your troubles.  
“I thought I might try a game of skill or two but only.....,”  
“Why!?” Eidra cried, “Oh Good Freyr, why? I had hoped I could impose upon you to speak to Loki. Tell him how foolish he is being.”  
The evening before, Loki and Fen had strode into the sitting room where Loki announced his participation in the upcoming games. Eidra had stood from her chair and stomped up the stairs to their bedchamber without a word. Instead of following her as Colin expected him to do, however, Loki had stayed in the sitting room, discussing the games with Fen and Colin, acting as if she'd merely stepped out for a minute. Later that evening, Colin could hear raised voices in their bedchamber before he nodded off but if he expected the argument had been resolved, he was sadly mistaken as their disagreement resumed at the morning meal.  
“Milady......Eidra, he's a man.”  
When Eidra crossed her arms before her to glare at him, he held up his hands in defense, “ ...aand...and he's always lived in the shadow of Thor. Ya know, giant bear of a brother?”  
“Yes and Loki feels he must always show the King he too is a fearless warrior....even at the expense of his own well being,” she bit her lip hard and Colin saw tears sparkle in her eyes, “He ignores the distress it causes me, says I am being a foolish woman, that all men strive to enter the games because they only come once every tenth season...”  
Colin clasped his hands behind his back, “Yer son is as hot for it as the rest of 'em, you know.”  
Eidra stamped her foot angrily and once again Colin was reminded of Brenna, “Why thank you so much Master Denehy, I had quite forgotten this fact. How kind of you to increase my concern tenfold.”  
He had to bite his tongue hard to keep from laughing at her sarcasm, “I'm just saying nothing I'm going to say is going to make any difference if they won't listen to you.”  
“I know, oh how I know,” she moaned, covering her face with her hands, “He swore he would join in the games this season. He said he had not competed in them since he was a young boy. I tried to explain to him he was far from a young boy now warning him he might not recover as swiftly from an injury. Instead of heeding my concern, he felt insulted. “So now you think me old?” he cried, “I should make haste to prepare my funeral bier for the gods know I have come to the end of days!” Of course his statement vexed me greatly,”she gripped Colin's arm, “Will you watch over him? Keep him safe?”  
If Loki was in the middle of a sword fight with an opponent, or at the mercy of a wrestler in a stranglehold, there was pitiful little he was going to be able to do but he patted Eidra's hand, “I'll do me best. I promise. I'll even try to turn the argument around for you, alright?”  
Eidra smiled wanly, released his arm, “He is hard headed but you may try. Thank you Colin, you are a good man.”  
Colin opened the door, peered out into the morning sunlight with a shiver. There was a dusting of snow on the ground, “I like to think I've a good heart. I'll return by evening meal,”   
There was a spate of hoarse coughing and Colin spied Brynn trotting back to Eidra, a biscuit in his hand.  
“And I'll ask the encampment doctor if there's not something we can give to Brynn for that rattle. Yer good on the meds?”  
Eidra nodded, pulled Brynn to her side again and Colin was struck at how pale the boy looked against her dark skirt.  
“Right, then. I'm off.”

 

The gray twilight, frigid air was replaced with bright sunshine and near tropical warmth as he stepped out from the circle of cedars. Menyir's deep voice still ringing in his ears.  
“..so for your traitorous acts against the throne, you are thereby and henceforth exiled. Chose your destination wisely. It will forever be your home.”  
He had chosen Asgard. There he would be able to live among the people disguised as one of them. Now, however, as he listened to the birdsong, scanned the surrounding forest, green pines, late autumn's bare trees, he wanted only to turn about and slip back through the rift but were he to return, he would be run through, left to die alone on the plains of Jotunheim.  
There would be plenty of time to reflect later, now he must hurry before he was seen as he appeared now. He begin to diminish in size, the cerulean blue fading from his skin along with the intricately lovely ancestral lines, blending until they were translucent against the shade of ivory he'd now become. Angry tears formed in his eyes. Menyir had given him little choice in the end. He had been forced into becoming human. Viceroy Reval had suggested he choose Muspelheim.  
“At least you would be among our brothers.”  
He'd spat at the ground before the elderly Viceroy in reply. The torrid heat they craved would be far worse than the summer-like climes of Asgard. He reached into his pack, shrugging off the old tunic and long breeches he'd been wearing, watching them drop to the ground as he held up the garments he'd been given.   
“Half my size, nearly half my size,” he groaned as he stepped into the breeches, tying them at his waist, pulled on his tunic, then squatted before the pack again. Inside glittered a handful of quartz crystal discs, amounting to fully a half season's wages in the mines, useless in Asgard unless he could barter them for some Asgardian coin. If asked where he'd obtained them, he could claim to have found them. Buried, perhaps? Ah no....from a trader....he would say he'd bartered them from a trader. He would need sustenance eventually. He looked to the pile of clothes. They would have to be buried or burned lest someone come across them and recognize their origin. With a grunt, he stood. There was nothing for it except to begin his journey.

 

“Sir,”  
Colin nodded to Chase, making every effort to ignore him as he continued past the silent portal toward Stark's office.  
“Excuse me. Sir?”  
“What is it, Wells?”Colin growled, “Spit it out for feck sake.”  
“It's about Brenna. Since we don't have AT&T here in Asgard, could you give her a letter for me?”  
Colin stopped short, felt Chase bump into him, “You can't give it to her on her next visit?”  
Chase took an envelope from the inside of his jacket, “It's about our next visit, Sir. So that's a negative.”  
Colin snatched the letter from Chase's hand, “You know, you might try not sneaking around behind Loki's back for a change. He's far from ignorant and I don't like being involved in subterfuge.”  
Chase smiled at him before he headed back to his desk, “Yes sir. I'll keep that in mind...thank you for your help.”  
“Thank you for yer help, indeed,” he muttered as he knocked on the door to Stark's office.  
“Enter.”  
Colin stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Stark was reclining in a chair at his desk, a steaming cup of coffee in his hands, staring at a hologram projected before him. Colin set his satchel on the chair in front of the desk.   
“We're going to have to go back to Earth, get a new bank of batteries. The original ones aren't holding a charge as long as they're supposed to anymore. Even the best technology wears out eventually. If they'd have approved the energy converter design, we wouldn't even need the batteries but sorry, Mister Stark, if the reactor ever fell into the wrong hands.....and yet here we sit beside these portals, an accident waiting to happen..”  
Colin opened the satchel, took out his tablet, “Mmmhmm. Hey have you seen Loki today?”  
“Destructo? No why? Should I?”  
Colin set the satchel on the floor as he dropped into the chair, “Nope, just a question. He and Eidra were having a row and I was just ticking off spots,” he nodded to the hologram, “Topographical map?”  
Stark sat forward, “Yeah, neat huh? We did the mapping about six months before the start of the project. Under strict supervision from the big guy of course. We came out to the longhouse site, sent a drone up about twenty thousand feet, took it in a flight pattern of about a hundred square meters, scanned the landscape, created the lay of the kingdom, Alfheim as well, and a small corner of.....damn it, what's the other realm called? Muscleheim?”  
“Muspelheim,” Colin tapped the screen of his tablet, “So what are you doing, scouting fer more sites? And please tell me you aren't. We've not even got portal two up yet..”  
Stark took another sip of his coffee, “Nothing like that, no,” he pointed to the hologram, “I'm just checking up on Simon. See that little bright green...”  
“What the bleeding hell did you just say?” Colin stood up, leaned forward over the desk to stare through the hologram at Tony.  
Stark gestured at the hologram, “I said I was checking up on Simon. I think I did anyway. I should switch to decaf once in a while. That little green light there? That's Simon.”  
Colin pounded a fist on the desk. This was turning out to be a banner day.  
“Hey that's solid Mahogany, take it easy...”  
“Mister Stark,” Colin moved forward until he was bathed in the green glow of the hologram, “Do you mean to tell me you've known all along where Simon Foster is? All this time?”  
“Well not all this time, no. I actually had forgotten about the site badges being chipped with locators in case of an emergency. Pretty clever huh? I mean if I'd remembered in time. So I turned on the tracker, same kind of tracking tech we use with the markers, typed in Simon's code on the off chance and pinged him right away. He wouldn't have taken it on purpose I don't think, so it's probably zipped into a pocket of his back pack or some odd place and he has no idea.”  
Colin sat back into the chair, put his head in his hand, “And no one else remembered this fact either? When it mattered?”  
Tony let a smile play about his lips, “Who can say? These guys here at the longhouses, they got so much to keep track of, so much to do, things slip their minds.”  
“You never mentioned it did you,” Colin peered at him.  
Tony shrugged, leaned back further in the chair, “I didn't mention it because I didn't think of it until now...that's my story....”  
“Fine, so how long have you been watching him then?”  
“Oh I'd say a week, week and a half at the most,” Stark clapped his hands together and the hologram winked out.  
“So the big question now is who gets to fetch him?” Colin groaned.  
“No one,” Stark stood up, walked around the desk, “We're going to let him continue his grand adventure.”  
Colin stared up at Stark, dumbfounded, “You were the one who was about losing his mind over Simon's disappearance and now yer saying he's fine, leave him alone?”  
Stark reached in his pocket and pulled out a micro drive, “Do you keep your journals still, Colin? We all do don't we? It's protocol in case of....emergencies, problems with dates and details. When Simon left all his work, his notes and things, he left his journal on the drive as well and I've been doing some reading..”  
“Those journals are private,” Colin cried, “Why?”  
“Okay, this is the reason they're kept, when something like this happens. We were trying to figure out just what was his state of mind, what he was planning, which was nothing, surprisingly enough, but this didn't just happen out of the blue. He's been struggling with what he claims is his heritage and something else called the rune elementals....,”   
“He told me about the heritage thingy but how can you believe a batty seer, honestly?”  
Stark nudged him with the toe of his shoe, “It goes a bit deeper than that but he also mentioned a friend of his whom he said seems to have family ties to Asgard as well.”  
 _Damnit, goddamn it!_  
“He's bollocking mad...” Colin muttered angry at how weak his retort sounded to him, “What did he say?”  
“He said you were connected by heritage too though you wouldn't tell him how. He did say you'd also talked to the crazy woman, Trena and she'd given you the rundown on your ancestors. That coupled with Coulson's warning about your research into your family names on his computer when you were home says to me you know more than you're saying too and that's why we're going to keep an eye on Simon and let him do what he needs to do. I'll just keep tabs on his whereabouts.”  
“How does my personal information have thing one to do with Simon traveling across the realm in search of God knows what?”  
Stark tilted his head, a silly smile on his face that Colin wanted to knock off, “What do the two of you have in common? Let's count. One, you knew each other before being assigned here, two, the both of you have had dealings with Trena. Not much to go on yet but I think if we let him do whatever it is he's doing, soul searching, playing hide and seek, he may shed light on your history too. Aren't you curious to see what he finds out when he returns.”  
“If he returns,” Colin sighed, defeated, “And no I'm not curious in the slightest. The seer's daft. Does that badge of his tell you the health of the owner?”  
Stark pursed his lips together, “What do you think we're playing, Call of Duty?.....No...,”  
“So for all you know, Simon's pack could be traveling about Asgard.....,”  
“Actually Alfheim to be exact...,”  
“Fecking Alfheim....on the back of a troll and Simon could be a pile of clean picked bones in the woods.”  
Stark shrugged, “The chances you take when you up and run off with a pretty girl. I'm going to err on the side of luck, however, and say that green blip is Mister Foster, still alive and well.”  
What's in this fer you anyway?” Colin eyed him, “Simon's raving journal, my supposed secret ancestry..?”  
“Not so secret, remember. Maybe you should ask why Fury hasn't taken you off the project instead. They've had to do the math from what Super Phil showed me, still since the shake up, the agency hasn't been what it used to be. You ask me whats in this for me?” Stark laughed, patted him hard on the shoulder, “Mister Denehy, there's so much you don't know about this project and frankly, if you did, you might be as tempted as I am to load these goddamn longhouses to the rafters with explosives and blow them to hell. For the longest time, I've been sitting the fence.”  
Stark leaned over his desk, slid a drawer open and pulled out a thick manilla envelope, slapping it down on the table, covering the front of it with his hand, “I reported to Fury last week....now don't look at me like that. He still thinks Simon has recovered from his breakdown and is hard at work again. Fury has informed me that he's received orders to have portal two up and running by the new year....and that's not all....,” Stark pushed the folder across the desk to Colin who took one look at the cover and held up his hands.  
“Now wait a minute, this is way over me clearance level......,” Colin tilted his head first one way, then the other, “....I'm not reading those dates right am I?”  
“Open the folder, Denehy.”  
Colin reached toward the folder, hesitated, then inched his chair forward, flipping the cover over to the first page, “Phase two?”  
As he started to read, his heart began to race, thundering louder with each paragraph, each diagram, map..  
Colin put a hand to his mouth, “They intend to build another four longhouses in Asgard.........by twenty thirty-one....within two years? I was under the impression these portals were purely experimental, to test the technology....,”  
“Which is just what they did..,” Stark added.  
Colin returned to the sheaf of papers, “They want one of the longhouses beside the outer wall of the city? The King would never agree to this.”  
Stark had wandered to the glass wall separating his office from the longhouse interior, now he stood staring past his reflection at the technicians just feet distant from them, “Whoever's pulling Fury's strings now believes Thor will do just that. They're going to present the new longhouses as embassy portals.”  
“Embassy portals.....why does this sound wrong?”  
Stark smiled grimly, “Imagine a longhouse filled with so called goodwill ambassadors from Earth sent to maintain a scientific presence, conduct more research into Asgardian culture. Flip forward a bit, go on, you'll be glad you did.”  
“The hell I will,” Colin muttered though he did what Stark suggested, “Christ.....”  
He read the paragraph to himself, his mouth unwilling to say the words out loud for fear they would come true....

_…..each longhouse will be equipped to maintain a ten person science team, four agents, and a military squad to maintain the integrity of the site perimeter for a total of roughly twenty seven individuals per site..._

“Maintain the fecking perimeter....Who? Interpol? The U.S. Army?....I was told agents were about as heavy as we were going to get here in Asgard...”  
“I'm still not sure who will get the ball first,” Stark glanced over his shoulder, “Actually I'm pretty certain the U.N. is involved there somewhere along with a few dozen world organizations, as I surmised from Fury's reaction when I took a wild guess. He won't confirm it..”  
Colin sat back in the chair, “I need a drink.”  
Stark gestured toward a tall cabinet behind his desk, “Bottom shelf. It's unlocked. Help yourself.”  
Colin moved to the cabinet, grabbed, with trembling hands, the bottle marked Stolichnaya and a short glass, returning to his chair where he poured the vodka to the halfway mark and sat back clutching the glass to his chest.  
“There's a Phase three you know,” Stark murmured, a grim smile rising to his face at Colin's long groan, “You asked what was in it for me? Letting Simon roam the countryside unaware, unencumbered? The satisfaction of knowing at least one of us is out from under the thumb of this travesty of justice. There's another angle as well. The more Midgardians....ha, off-worlders who come here during this initial phase, people like you, my friend, who learn to love this crazy realm and want to stay, the more prepared Asgard might be in case Phase Three becomes reality.”  
“Prepared, how?” Colin put his head against the back cushion of the chair, “And what's Phase Three?”   
“Prepared to take what the Earth can dish out. Prepared to defend their homes if need be,” Stark shook his head, “As for Phase Three, I can only tell you this much. The portals in Longhouses one and two are small.....miniatures.”  
Colin drained his glass, grimaced at the burn as the vodka slid down his throat.  
“I made a deal with Fury. I'd get Portal two up and running for him if I could have Pepper here with me for the time being. She's arriving here tomorrow.”  
Colin grabbed his satchel, stuffed his tablet inside, “I'll fudge the report later. Right now I've got to get out of this insane asylum, maybe take a ride in the country to clear me head.”  
Colin reached for the door handle as Stark turned to him, “How long before you join Foster yourself, Denehy? Go native as it were. Would you want us to come gunning for you too?”  
Colin twisted the handle and stepped out into the cavernous longhouse, not daring to so much as hesitate, knowing Stark would be watching him through the glass. Go native? Christ, the truth be told, he'd gone native months ago, he just hadn't taken it to extremes like Simon. Once outside, Colin pressed his forehead against Agathon's side and closed his eyes.  
“What say we take the long way home, just you and me boy?”  
Agathon regarded him he pulled himself up into the saddle and took up the reins, never more eager to be finished with a day as he was this one.

 

CRACK! The vibration traveled along the staff to his hands. CRACK! Thrust, step, thrust. With a low whoosh the staff split the air, swung around. CRACK! He winced, the pain in his hands, across his back between his shoulder blades fueling the rage, the speed of his next move. CRACK! He struck the pole again. CRACK! Again. CRACK! Again. Felt the burn of muscles long unused, frustrated at how little effort it was taking to reach the point of exhaustion.  
 _“Loki, you are not as young as you used to be...”_  
CRACK!  
 _“...when you are lying on the ground in the arena defeated....or worse, what then?”_  
CRACK! Turn, CRACK!  
 _“....could you not think only of yourself....just this once?”_  
CRAAACK!  
The staff splintered, one half flying through the air to the hard packed dirt floor of the arena. Loki leaned against the pole, chest heaving, eyes closed, flexing his shoulders against the pull of the scars upon his back, his chest. Unbidden, the murmur of ages past came to him....the voice of the Council representative as he read the decree...

“....and for his crimes against the realms of Midgard and Asgard, it has been determined that his punishment shall be as follows....two hundred lashes upon his person in recompense for the lives he has taken...”  
The voices of the witnesses in the stands died away.  
“......thereafter, he shall be remanded to the prison cells below the palace for the remainder of his seasons.”  
He could feel the cuffs dig into the flesh of his wrists, the hatred in his heart as the guard yanked the chain through the iron ring affixed to the pole until he was balancing upon the balls of his feet, cheek pressed to the pockmarked wood, his arms stretched high above his head.  
The arena fell silent, as silent as it was now, the tromp of footsteps behind him. He raised his head to peer around the pole up into the stands where Odin stood at the royal viewing stand.  
 _“I hate you..”_  
At Odin's nod, there was a hiss and crack behind him, then a strip of fire across the skin at the small of his back. He grimaced though he kept his gaze trained on Odin.  
 _“I loathe you..”_  
Another strike, like the bite of a snake, sharp, at the edge of his ribcage and he shuddered, jaw tight. Odin would not have the satisfaction of his voice.  
Another strike, then another.  
 _“why did you not leave me to die upon the plains of Jotunheim?”_  
Another strike. Warm wet trickles of blood had started their travels down his bare back to the coarse breeches he'd been given to wear. The pain was unimaginable, mind numbing. Another strike and he groaned.  
 _“Why are you not the one behind the lash?”_  
Strike after strike. His vision began to swim. In the shadows behind Odin, rose Thor. Odin turned to look behind him as he left the stand to ascend the stairs out of the arena, returning his gaze to Loki with a shake of his head before disappearing at the top with a swirl of his red cloak.  
Another strike, deeper this time, pain shooting across his shoulder blades, traveling up his arms as he pressed himself against the pole, his body instinctively looking for a place to hide itself away from the assault of leather on flesh.  
Another strike as his head lolled back and he stared up the pole to the dark night sky dimmed by the torches lit about the stands.  
Another strike. He brought his gaze back to Odin, the agony consuming him, his balance failing as his knees buckled, leaving him to dangle by his wrists.  
Darkness was closing in upon his mind. How many lashes had been delivered? Twenty? Fifty?   
Another strike, another, another.   
He tilted his head to the sky, “FATHER!”  
As his vision faded, piss darkening the pole, the front of his breeches, his last sight before consciousness left him was Odin's unwavering stare....

“Brother?”  
Loki's eyes flew open. He looked to the ground at Thor's shadow, tall in the waning light of the late afternoon sun.  
“What are you doing? Are you taken ill?”  
Loki pushed himself away from the pole to stand, squinting up its length to the sky beyond.  
“No....I was remembering.”  
Silence, then a great arm crossed his chest. He felt Thor's forehead against the leather tieback in his hair and he cursed the blond oaf for knowing his thoughts even as he welcomed the comfort engendered in the gesture.  
“It was another lifetime. You are not the man this day that you were then.”  
“I was younger...” Loki muttered.  
“We were all of us younger.....and foolish, naive..”  
When Thor let him go, he turned around, “What mutter you?”  
Thor only smiled, however, “Ah 'tis naught but a memory as you say. Let us close the door on such serious matters. The games are imminent. Only a few mornings hence now. Shall we spar a bit?”  
Loki shook his head, “No, I've some correspondence to write to King Freyr then I am retiring to the manor. Perhaps on the morrow.”  
Loki clapped Thor on the shoulder and headed toward the archway exit, picking up the other half of his broken staff as he went, the old anger fading until it was but a ghost trapped inside the walls of the palace grounds.


	50. 50

Gunnar was so close, Fen could hear the even rhythm of his breathing, see him in his peripheral vision, his arms bent at the elbows, loose, relaxed.   
“Fen...,” Gunnar called to him, “Keep your......pace even.”  
Fen nodded though he said nothing, just kept running along the marked trail, leaping over the exposed root of a tree, fixing its location in his mind.  
Gunnar was now beside him, “Save...your strength for....the sprint into.....the arena...”  
Fen nodded again, grimacing at the stitch that was forming in his side. A bit further and the pain was unbearable.  
“Side....hurts,” Fen gasped, slowing his stride.  
“Breathe deep......slow in.....force the air.....out.”  
Fen shook his head, “Cannot....,”  
He slowed to a stop, bent double, his hand to his right side, panting as Gunnar circled about, stopping beside him.  
“You must run through....the pain,” Gunnar clapped him on the shoulder, “The rest of your competitors will not stop to wait for you to catch up.”  
“I.....know....Ah!” Fen straightened up, both hands now pressed to his side.  
“ Also, you must eat well the day before but in moderation. Do not gorge yourself....porridge with honey, roast chicken, potatoes.....,”  
“Gunnar, I know!” Fen put his hands atop his head, “My father has told me all of this.”  
Gunnar immediately looked to the ground, “Forgive me. I forget my place.”  
“If you start this again, I shall cast my chit against you in the wrestling competition,” Fen glared at him, “I am no more your better now than I was before you started training to be a guardsman.”  
Gunnar chewed his lip, recalling the standard admonition he'd received as he'd bid his father and mother farewell that morning. His father had given him the same advice, drummed into his head every time he left to visit with Fen.  
 _“He is a Prince, the son of a Prince, the nephew of the King of Asgard. Never forget this. You are his friend, his closest companion, but also are you his protector, your responsibility the same as if you were standing at attention in the Throne room, pike at the ready to defend the King.”_  
“Gunnar,” Fen poked him in the arm, “Come now, we will start back to the manor, beg sweets from Gretten. There are surely left overs from last evening...dried apple cake...”  
Gunnar, pulling the widest smile he could manage, gestured down the trail the way they'd come, “Lead the way my..,” he paused. He'd nearly called Fen “my liege.” Fen would have likely stomped off, or forced him to retract his words; he'd done it before, “ my friend.”  
Fen returned the grin as they started off down the path, “It has been threatening snow again. I hope it will hold off until after the games.”  
“At least until Winternights......have you asked her to the celebration yet?”  
Fen shook his head with a laugh, “I told you, she does not know I exist, or has been ordered to believe I do not...”  
Gunnar sighed. Fen was missing his biggest asset, he had to point it out, “You are the son of a Prince....now I care not how angry you be with me but as you grow older, many a maid shall be pushed your way by Aesir and citizen alike to further their bond with the royal family. Her parents would be fools to steer her away from your company and this I swear, she notices you. How can you doubt my words after the night of the Council elections?”  
Fen's cheeks reddened. The newest member of the High Council,a youngish man named Urtek, voted into the seat vacated by the retiring Council member, Murran, had been welcomed to the table in the Throne room barely a month prior. With him, attending the ceremony had been his pregnant wife and their eldest daughter, Lisle, a petite girl with auburn hair and golden brown eyes. Fen had stared at her throughout the entire ceremony, even earning a jab from Brenna as she chided him, “You little worm, mind your manners. You shall certainly frighten her off.”  
After the ceremony, at the feast in the Great Hall, Fen had screwed up every ounce of courage he could muster, drew himself up tall and approached to where she stood behind her mother, gazing about at the crowd while her parents spoke with other council members.  
He cleared his throat a bit early, startling her, nearly causing her to back into her mother's elbow.  
“Forgive me,” Fen bowed, stood straight again, relieved to see they were roughly the same height, “I am...”   
He had struggled with telling her his title. Being a Prince had its advantages. You were respected, genuflected at, curtsied to, fawned over (at least here in court. At home, the only people who catered to him were the servants, and of all of them, only Hal and Vesta addressed him as “Your Highness”). But also did it have its disadvantages. One could never tell whether the treatment, the kind words he received were born of genuine care and concern or the requisite kowtowing to his status as a prince of the realm. In the end he decided merely to give her his name.  
“I am Fen.”  
She clasped her hands at her waist and curtsied as Fen silently cursed himself. How could she not know who he was when he had been standing with his father and sister throughout the entire affair in the Throne room.  
“I know. I am Lisle, daughter of Urtek.”  
Fen smiled, “I congratulate your father upon his appointment to the High Council.”  
“Thank you,” she curtsied again, “It is a great honor for our family.”  
Fen sighed. Indeed the conversation was turning out like every other proper exchange and as it lagged, he looked away at the surrounding crowd.  
“Parties like this tend to be terribly dull, do they not?”  
Fen turned to gaze at her, delighted. At last, honesty.  
“I would rather be at home learning figures.”  
Lisle giggled, “Oh my, I did not believe they were as dull as that....then again, you are a boy and boys care nothing for this sort of thing.”  
Fen put his hands on his hips, “I am a man. I have completed my rite of passage.”  
“I know,” Lisle nodded, “My grandfather was present at the ritual.”  
Grandfather, of course. Fen wracked his brains. Who was Urtek's father? He should have paid attention but that day was entirely a blur. Olav?   
Fen gestured to Lisle, “And how old be you, Milady?”  
“I am thirteen seasons.”  
Through a part in the throng, Fen spied the servants currently spreading the desserts out onto the long table and he had a wonderful thought. No one could resist sweets like apple cake, tortes, shortbread, glazed fruit, certainly not himself.  
“Would you care to accompany me to the desserts,” he lay a finger to his lips when she started to turn to her mother, “If we set off alone, we might have what we want without our parents chiding us for our excess.”  
He held out his hand terrified he'd been mistaken to assume she would willingly follow him but a slow grin spread across her rose hued lips and she took a step forward. When she failed to take his hand, however, he looked up to see her frozen in mid stride, staring behind him, eyes wide. It was then that he felt two hands settle on his shoulders.  
“And well we would chide you,” came his father's silken voice, “For you know the rules. Sweets come at the end of the meal, lest we spoil our appetite. Come on. You may visit with your friend after we eat. They are seating people now.”  
Before following his father to his position with the royal family, Fen had bowed to Lisle who had shrunk back to her mother's side. Through the evening, he would steal glances at Lisle though she was well down the table with her mother. Upon a couple instances, their eyes did meet and he was pleased to know she too was looking at him but soon after the main courses, she disappeared along with her mother. Later that evening, he heard someone question Urtek as to where his lovely wife had disappeared, his response being that she had begged leave to retire. She was close to her time and so she'd taken Lisle home with her, leaving Urtek at the palace. Since then he had seen Lisle but once. She did not acknowledge him though to her credit she may not have seen him such were the crowds in the main city square....at least it was what he chose to tell himself....

“I suppose I will send a letter to her father and ask his permission. First I must ask my father whether I might invite her.”  
They raced up the hill to the ridge, standing side by side, looking across the fields to the rear of the manor house.  
“She would be a good match for you. She has a fine pedigree.”  
“Odin's beard!” Fen elbowed Gunnar, “You sound like my father! I am not asking for her hand, I wish her to accompany me to the bonfires and the start of the Wild Hunt...”  
“...which you will be joining this season. I cannot wait to have you riding at my side.”  
“I cannot wait to bring in the largest stag..,” Fen gave Gunnar a shove as he raced down the hill, “Come, oh great hunter,” he called over his shoulder, “See if you too are as fleet of foot as you need be for the games.”  
“Unfair!” Gunnar cried stumbling down the hilll toward the manor after Fen whose laughter drifted back to him, “You have a head start!” 

 

From the road, they watched the man in the wide straw brimmed hat walk toward the small cottage, milk pail in hand. If he saw them, he didn't acknowledge their presence, only kept on until he disappeared behind the whitewashed structure.  
“Let me do the talking this time will you?” Simon started walking again.  
“I will if yer sure ye can keep our story straight in yer head,” Lelia grumbled, following close behind.  
Simon smiled to himself. On the road a couple days past, soon after they'd crossed the border into Alfheim, they'd met up with a man on a horse. Simon could scarce believe his ears when the man brought his horse about, bowed to them both and asked where they were headed in a language he'd not heard in an age. He waited for Lelia to respond but when she stood there staring blankly at the man Simon returned the bow, replying to the man's question with their requisite answer. They had both agreed upon the fabricated story that they were traveling to King Freyr's castle. The man bowed again, wished them good journey and was off down the road, missing Lelia's swipe at Simon's arm.  
“What in the name of Odin was that? Is it lying ye've been to me?” She cried, “How is it ye know Alfari? Tell me plain!”  
Simon shook his head, “You might call that Alfari here but where I come from, it's called another language entirely.”  
“Ye speak Alfari on Midgard? Impossible! How?”  
He had motioned her to keep quiet, watching as a woman poked her head out the front door of a nearby cottage, “I swear I will bind and gag you and toss you over my shoulder if you do not keep your voice down. Listen, I learned a rudimentary grasp of the language in school, enough to hold a fair conversation at least, during summers spent in Blackpool and you'll never believe who with. Here I think it's a bit more archaic but it's basically the same only on Midgard we call it Gaelic or Celtic.”  
Lelia had stood there in the road a good long while, so long, in fact, that Simon became concerned, waving his hand in front of her face until she grabbed at his fingers.  
“Good lord, I thought I'd broken you,” he chuckled.  
Her face crimson, she'd tromped up the road away from him until he caught up with her, apologizing, explaining that he'd no idea they were going to speak an ancient Midgardian language here in Alfheim. She'd ceded to his pleas and now, when they encountered someone, she was more inclined to let Simon speak first...

 

As they reached the cottage door, Simon paused, looked to Lelia, “What are we calling ourselves this time?”  
“Ye are Davin, I am Ilsa. Will that suit ye?” she whispered, moving in close for a quick peck.  
“Mmm, it will if I can keep things straight.”   
He knocked on the door and stepped back.  
After a moment, there were rapid footsteps from inside and the door swung open. In the doorway stood a blond woman, her hair pulled back beneath a headband. In one hand, she held a plate, wrapped up in the edge of her apron.  
“May I help you?”  
If Simon was caught off guard by her Midgardian dress, he was rendered speechless when she repeated the question, a bit slower and louder, “Excuse me, may I help you!”  
“Anna, who the devil are you shouting at?” came a voice from inside the cottage.  
A tall, balding, gray haired man appeared out of the shadowed interior to stand behind the woman. He was dressed in breeches, a jersey and a cardigan. Gold spectacles were perched nearly to the tip of his nose and he pushed them back to their rightful place as he peered out at Simon and Lelia.  
“Oh...oh, yes indeed. May we help you?”  
Simon opened his mouth, closed it, felt Lelia's hand slip into his, giving it a squeeze. Did he answer in Alfari? Did the man know Alfari?  
“Directions?” Simon croaked and the man behind Anna stood upright, a hand on his chest.  
“Goodness, a Midgardian. Are you here with the fellows from the camp in Asgard now?”  
What could he say? No? He looked to Lelia as the man pulled Anna aside, waving them into the cottage.  
“I...um...”  
“Truth be told, it's good to hear the language again. I'll have Anna put the kettle on the boil,” he held out his hand to Simon as they crossed over the threshold, “My name is Martin Rutledge, welcome to my home.”  
Minutes later, they were seated on an old but comfortable sofa before a large fireplace. Martin sat across the way in an overstuffed recliner, Anna in a rocking chair beside him.  
“I heard of the portal project through the village gossip,” Martin took a sip of his tea, “I am indeed surprised you've wandered so far from the safety of your little encampment. After all, where else could you possibly hail from with that backpack and those boots? They were most certainly not made in Asgard,””  
“Encampment...I, yes..,” Simon rubbed his hands together, feeling the sweat slick his palms.  
Martin nodded, fixing him with a curious stare, “Are you on the lam?”  
“What....,” Simon cleared his throat, “What is being said about the project?”  
Martin tapped his chin, leaned back against the chair cushions, “Ah, the Alfari people worry we'll be overrun with Midgardians before long. I assured them there were few Midgardians who'd take to this primitive life. They'd be loathe to leave their electronic devices behind.”  
At a vigorous nod from Anna, Martin reached over to give her hand a pat, “Ah yes. Anna does miss her telly.....and her washer....and her wireless but we make do, don't we?”  
Anna cast a look of pure devotion at him, “We do. I'm always singing to make up for the lack of music.”  
Martin's grin morphed into a grimace though Anna seemed not to notice, “That you are, my dear.”  
“Excuse me...,” Simon put a hand up, “Um, you're both from Mid....from Earth then? However did you find yourselves here?”  
Martin sat forward in his chair, “ 'Tis a sad tale,” he nodded toward Anna, “One I cannot bear relating in present company. Suffice it to say I am a native of Alfheim. I was born here, traveled to Earth ages ago where I spent some considerable time as a professor. I then retired here with my companion, Anna, to live out my days. So tell me...Mister....ah...”  
Simon glanced at Lelia. He'd worn so many different names in the past few weeks, he'd nearly lost track of his own moniker. He looked away from Lelia, “Simon Foster,” felt her stiffen against his side.  
“Mister Foster is it? Whereabouts in Midgard are you from?”  
Oh hell, in for a penny, in for a pound, “New York city.”  
“Originally?” Martin raised a bushy eyebrow, “I'd say not.”  
A nervous smile played around Simon's lips, “Leeds, until I was about nineteen, then I traveled to the states to go to university...ahh!”  
Lelia had reached around his arm, pinching the skin above his elbow hard but before he could chide her, she looked at Martin, “We've taken up more of yer time than we intended. We were after asking ye if ye could direct us to the territory of the clan Melos. We've business with Harmand, the clan leader.”  
Martin tilted his head, staring up at the ceiling, “You've a good two days walk north from here, Just keep on the road until you see the red hills rising from the horizon before you and you shall find them. His lands lie near the border with Muspelheim...” when Lelia cast an uneasy look at Simon, Martin laughed, “Don't trouble yourselves about the fire giants. We've had an easy peace with them. You can thank Prince Loki for that. I must ask, when you were in the encampment, did you encounter him?”  
“Once or twice,” Simon nodded as Lelia rose from the couch.  
“How is he? Still deadly serious?”  
“Begging yer pardon, sir. We must be off. We thank ye for yer hospitality..” Lelia held out her hand to Simon, “Come now. It will be dark soon.”  
Martin stood from his chair, “You're quite welcome to bed down here for the evening,”   
“No, we've been traveling for some time. We need to keep moving,” Lelia tugged Simon to his feet, “Good evening to ye.”  
Martin walked them to the door, “Let Anna fetch you a bit of dinner to tide you over in the very least.”  
Before Lelia could protest, Anna had rushed into the next room, “Yes, we had a lovely roast. It's more than we can manage just the two of us.”  
Lelia pulled at Simon's hand but the thought of roast beef had his stomach groaning, “If it's not too much trouble.”  
“Not at all....ah here we are.”  
“Bread and beef, enough for sandwiches, and a section of coffee cake,” Anna handed Simon a large linen wrapped parcel which he set in the top of his backpack.  
“Thank you again,” Simon held out his hand to Martin who squeezed it tightly, leaning in close.  
“You should bury that pack,” Martin glanced down at Simon's feet, “What size shoes do you wear?”  
“God, uh size nines?”  
“Pity. My feet are rather larger than that. I would change out your boots too if I were you. It marks you.”  
Simon eyed him, “I can't simply drop my sack by the side of the road and carry my load in my arms, besides who's going to notice two travelers walking along the road?”  
“I noticed you right off because I've lived on Midgard. Imagine how different you seem to someone who's never set foot in the other realms,” Martin's gaze slipped down Simon's tunic to his breeches, “You're road weary, your clothes are worn. You'd do well with a change for ragged attire makes as strong an impression as elaborate finery. Nevertheless, I only offer advice. There is nothing to do save take it or ignore it. Safe travels to you.”  
Simon let Martin's hand go, trotted down the path from the cottage to the road where Lelia was waiting for him and they started off again, up the road, side by side.  
Martin watched them out of sight, turned to Anna who was peering down the road over his shoulder and guided her inside as he shut the door behind them.  
“If anyone should come looking for them, my dear, they were never here.”

 

“Why did ye not write a letter, hand it to the braggart and ask him to send it to the palace?!”  
Simon arranged the kindling over the pile of dried leaves and grass in the little fire pit he'd dug. It was always best to let her blow off steam before he tried to rationalize his actions. Truth be told, she was quite amusing when she got a good rant going.  
“He knows yer from the encampment now. Ye told him yer name even. Why? I ask ye why?”  
Simon stuck out his hand, “Flint.”  
“What?”  
“Flint,” he sighed, “To light the fire.”  
The flints were slapped hard into his palm. He resisted the urge to close his fingers about hers, yank her into his lap and give her a right smack on her behind.  
“Yer stubborn, hard headed....!”  
Simon gave a smirk as the leaves began to smolder, “I'm a quick study. I daresay I've learned from the best.”  
Lelia flopped to the ground beside him, “Indeed ye have. I'm after wondering how to break ye of it.”  
They sat watching the fire lick the smaller branches, race along the bark to catch the larger pieces until the blaze was well underway.  
“Lelia,” Simon sighed, tossed another middling sized branch onto the blaze, “Even if that man were to send word we'd come this way, we'd be long gone before the news reached Asgard and I'm tired of lying all the time. One of these days I'm going to forget who I am completely.”  
“I suppose,” Lelia frowned, “Only don't be so eager to cut yer own throat now.”  
“I'm only being logical. We've been on the road for a while. In any case, we've something to eat,” Simon flipped open his pack, smiling at the scent of roast beef wafting up to perfume the air. He lifted the linen parcel and set it on the ground between them. As she divided the bread and meat between them, he watched her, brought a hand up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. The ghost of a grin played about her face.   
“For all yer foolishness, I still love ye, me hard headed husband.”  
He cupped her face with his hand, “And I you, my fearless, steadfast wife.”  
She closed her eyes as he withdrew his hand, rummaging into the pack for the two banged up pewter cups they'd procured during their journey, “I'm going back to that little waterfall we passed. I'll be back.”  
“Take care.” Lelia looked up at him.  
Simon hurried along the overgrown path they'd followed into the woods that afternoon, rushing against the waning light until he came to the small grove. The rocks surrounding the pool at the bottom of the waterfall were slippery and more than once he was nearly pitched into the clear water but he managed at last to fill both cups. So concerned was he with holding the cups steady as he headed back down the return path, that he failed to notice the rustle of underbrush a short distance away and a deep whispered burr, “Bhì Harmand ceart.”

The roast beef was excellent, well seasoned, the bread full of yeasty sweetness. Lelia was skeptical about the coffee cake at first but after an initial taste, she devoured her half, licking her finger to gather the cinnamon crumbs from the linen cloth.  
“I've never heard of coffee cake before, more's the pity. If ever we're to pass Master Rutledge's way again, I'll beg the recipe from his mate.”  
Simon lifted the linen carefully, carrying it a distance from them into the darkened woods and shook it out, “We'll find a recipe for it. It's a Midgardian dessert.”  
Simon banked the fire before they bedded down, back to back, wrapped in their blankets. Thankfully the snow that had threatened earlier in the week had given way to an unseasonably warm patch but the nights were still close to freezing. Lelia started to sing, softly as she always did when settled for the evening. She claimed it helped to comfort her and it quickly became a cherished bedtime ritual. Simon snuggled closer to her, listening to the Asgardian lullaby, the words now familiar to him as his grasp of the native language grew. After a time, her words grew softer and he wondered if she'd at last fallen asleep.  
“Lelia?”  
He felt her move about and he was sure she was looking over her shoulder at him.  
“We've been lying our way across Asgard,” he continued, “Across Alfheim for the last few weeks and though I know it was out of necessity, it forced me into a practice I abhor. I loathe lying with a passion. When I was at last able to say how I felt about you, I felt uplifted. I no longer felt the need to lie to myself, to you. In the same light, that's why I told Martin my name, my agenda, I feel the need to hide our tracks has long since passed. I think Thor did indeed grant me asylum as I requested or we would have been found long before now. If there's anything to fear in the near future, I don't think it's coming from Asgard.”  
He turned to face her, trying to gauge her expression in the shadows cast by the dying firelight as she followed suit, spread her hands across his chest, stretching up to brush her lips along the line of his jaw, planting kisses upon his chin, his mouth, forehead until he clutched her to him with a groan.  
“I confess I feel the same as ye. We are safe...,” she purred, nuzzled at his throat, “Perhaps we should have stayed at Martin's for the evening. A clean pallet is far preferable to the cold ground..,” She rose above him, throwing one leg across to straddle his waist, “And a sight more comfortable when passion o’er takes a body.”  
All at once he was terrified, recalling the countless times he had avoided even the slightest female contact, choosing the male tellers at the bank and the grocers, breaking into a cold sweat at the thought of talking to another woman, the mucked up dates he'd been on, the rejection he'd suffered and delivered in turn. He'd led a lonely life on Earth before he came to Asgard, before Lelia had saved him from himself but he wasn't so certain he could overcome a lifetime of fear in one night.  
She was lifting the hem of his tunic, raising it over his head to tuck it under the blankets beside them, her hands exploring, tracing, learning his body.  
“Le...Lelia...,” he reached for her hands, looking up at her face, half in shadow.  
“I should've tossed another log on the fire,” she murmured, “but no matter, we'll be warm enough.”  
She was incredible, every inch of her a study in beauty, her red hair draped in a braid across her shoulder, her green eyes staring into his own, her lips parted, porcelain skin aglow. The rush of desire had long ago reached a fever pitch, there was no denying it, not with the threadbare breeches he was wearing. She tugged at the laces, leaning to whisper into his ear.  
“Me precious husband, I yearn for this union....I love ye so.”  
He felt her loosen the lacing of his breeches, working her hand beneath the waistband and he grabbed her wrist, felt her stiffen as she sat up.  
“Simon?” she paused to stare at him, first confusion then horror clouding her face as she scrambled from atop him, “Oh me father always said I was a bold child,” she covered her cheeks with her hands, “ 'Tis powerful sorry I am, powerful sorry. I thought ye...”  
Simon rose to his knees before her, pulling her hands away, “Now you listen to me. You've done nothing wrong. Nothing at all. This is my fault. I told you I led a lonely life on Midgard didn't I? The truth is...,” God it sounded so corny but he couldn't think of any other way to say it, “I've never....,”  
She tilted her head to stare at him, “Never what?”  
He closed his eyes, “...never slept with....with a woman before......aaand I'm.....,” he sat back onto the blankets, “afraid....,”  
He wasn't sure what reaction he expected but her laughter took him by surprise, “What is there to fear, might I ask? 'Tis a natural thing. I've lived a lifetime on the farm watching the beauty of creation play out each spring with our lambs, the foals. I've delivered countless calves. Watched me Da's prized bull capture a heifer 'neath him. Me Ma told me long ago about such things. She said when I finally found the one I wanted to give meself to, I'd know it and she was right though I'd not tell her, she'd wield my admission like a weapon at every argument.”  
“Wait a minute,” Simon gaped at her, “Good lord, you....you're....never....”  
She put a hand to her chest, regarding him disdainfully, “Not ever. Do ye take me for an easy woman, Simon Foster?”  
“No...no, no!” Simon reached for her hand, covering it with his own, “No...you're anything but easy, trust me. It's just that..I....well where I come from, it's rare to...abstain from sex for any amount of time. They seem to start exploring at an earlier age each year, in fact. My mother had me at eighteen but in our town, there were girls, children really, who were having babies far younger than that. I'm simply shocked that someone as beautiful as yourself wasn't courted regularly.”  
Her face relaxed as she brought his hands to her lips, kissed them, “Ah ye've gone by what ye only know and therein I'll forgive ye but the answer is the same, I've never known another man. I won't tell ye how many suitors I've turned away, lest I sound prideful but of all the men to visit me door, yer the only one I've e'er been drawn to. The only man I would lay down with,” she sighed, glanced about the campsite, “Still, yer reticence is well met. This isn't the proper place for a happening of such import,” she pressed his knuckles to her cheek with a sigh, “...and so when yer ready, so will I be.”  
She lay back down the blanket, and he eased himself down beside her, marveling at her strength, her patience and resolve as she nestled herself snugly against his side, her head on his shoulder and began to sing softly once again, lulling him into a dreamless sleep....

...until his eyes flew open and he drew a sharp breath. There was something or someone in the woods beyond the perimeter of their campsite. At first when the snap crackle of winter dry underbrush had reached his ears, he thought he was dreaming until he heard it again. Lelia had changed position in the night and was now facing away, her back pressed to him. There was another rustle of activity which sounded to be coming from the other side of the firepit at their feet. He looked up to the lowest branch of the tree behind them where he'd hung his backpack out of reach of the occasional brave animal who might scent the roast beef he'd been carrying, relieved to see it still there, then he thought of Lelia's dagger. It was well secured in a slit in the boot on her right foot. If he was careful, he might possibly be able to draw it without attracting attention.  
As he made to reach beneath the covers, there came a grunt and a thud. A flurry of sparks from the hot coals spiraled up to the treetops. He raised his head ever so slowly until he could make out the silhouette of what looked to be a smallish person squatting between them and the firepit. The figure reached to the right, took another small log, pushing at the coals with one thick end, leaned forward, and taking a deep breath, blew into the pit. Flames erupted here and there, adding more light to the scene as Simon drew the dagger from Lelia's boot as quietly as he could.   
The figure clapped his hands together, rubbing them briskly over the growing flames and Simon felt Lelia stiffen, turn to him. He put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head as he slipped the blanket off of them, rising to a crouch, the dagger pointed at the figure's back. Before he could close the distance between them, however, the figure turned it's head to the side and Simon froze.  
“I was after figuring if I made enough of a to-do, you'd come about soon enough.”  
The intruder was speaking English. They'd been found at last. Still, he figured playing stupid couldn't hurt now. He stood up, motioning for Lelia to remain on the blanket, “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in our camp?”  
The figure rose from the ground to face him and Simon was taken aback. Before him stood a woman nearly a head shorter than himself. She looked to be of middling age though she was possessed of a handsome face full of good humor. Her dark brown hair was done up in two braids tied together at the nape of her thick neck. She was dressed from head to foot in studded leather. Heavy vambraces covered her forearms, the pauldrons covering her shoulders adorned with polished silver spikes, a thick sectioned breastplate and heavy leather skirt protected her waist. Fur lined hobnail boots covered her feet. He lowered the dagger. The woman before him was a warrior who would doubtless make quick work of him with or without a weapon.  
“And I might ask of you the same. What are you doing on our lands off-worlder?”  
Lelia had risen from the blankets now and she advanced to take Simon's hand in hers, “We're only passing through. We'll be on our way come dawn.”  
The woman regarded her coolly, “An Asgardian. You, too, are far from home. Speak then, what are an off-worlder and an Asgardian doing so deep inside of Alfheim....on clan lands, no less.”  
Martin had been painfully correct. He stuck out like white on black. It must have been obvious to everyone they'd met. It was a true wonder they'd not been found and hauled back to the encampment before they'd left Asgard.  
“Which clan are you part of?” Simon pulled Lelia closer. If the woman was hostile, at the very least he could do his best to protect her.  
The woman grinned proudly, “I....will ask in turn, which clan do you hail from?” she took a step closer to them, “Where's your mark?”  
The birthmark.....she was talking about the birthmark. On impulse he raised his hand to his left ear and the woman's face brightened as she strode up to him, grabbing his face, turning it toward the firelight.  
“The old troll's pizzle was right! You're Melos's folk!”  
Simon backed away from her, “Yes, I suppose I am....ah....”  
The woman had reached across her waist and was now brandishing a short broadsword at the two of them.  
“There was word Harmand was on the lookout for company. I'll warrant he's waiting for the two of you.”  
Simon pushed Lelia behind him though he kept the dagger lowered at his side, “If he's expecting someone, I doubt he means us. He doesn't know we're coming.”  
“Simon!” Lelia hissed, jabbing him in the small of the back.  
“ 'Tis a surprise visit then?” the woman waved the tip of the sword in the air between them, “We'll have to send a courier with word of your arrival on Clan Fiodoir lands. Then we might determine what your safe delivery is worth to him. Ooo, I've been waiting untold seasons to gain the upper hand on the old gelding!”   
She raised a hand in the air and clenched it into a fist. All at once the forest was alive with movement as a battery of similarly clad men appeared from the dark woods beyond the circle of firelight.  
“Give up the pig sticker in your paw,” the woman waggled her fingers at Simon, “And we'll see you to proper lodgings.”  
“Go on now,” a deep voice behind him urged, “there's only two of you and one of 'em's a woman. We won't do you no harm.”  
Simon raised the dagger, earning a sharp tug from Lelia as he placed it in the woman's outstretched hand.  
“Nice,” she studied it, “properly weighted. Not dwarven made though. You can have it back if you leave. It's worthless for all of us.”  
“We'll not overstay our welcome,” Lelia growled, darting in front of him, “You can be sure of that. When Harmand hears ye've his kin, he'll beat a hasty path to yer door!”  
The woman handed the dagger to one of the men flanking her, “Oh, I'm counting on it, lass, I'm counting on it.”


	51. 51

Loki shut the bedchamber door as quietly as he was able but no matter. As he strode to the balcony railing, raising the lanter to peer into the pre-dawn darkened foyer where Fen stood waiting, he heard a door unlatch to his right.  
“Papa,” Astrid whispered.  
Loki turned about to see Astrid and Brynn standing in the doorway of their bedchamber.  
“Papa. I thought we were going with you to the games,” Brynn whined.  
Loki waved to Fen as he walked to their doorway and knelt before them. At five seasons old, Astrid was quickly outstripping her brother in height. Brynn would take after Eidra in that respect.  
“I want to ride with you!” Astrid joined in.  
“You are all of you riding in the wagon with Master Denehy. You will be soon behind us....sooner if you continue your hue and cry my little sparrow. Let your mother sleep in a bit longer.”  
There was a click to his left as Cait poked her head out of her bedchamber doorway, “Did I not tell the two of you we would follow Papa this morn? Stop pestering him and return to bed!”  
He smiled to himself at Cait's motherly mien but he would have to diffuse this situation swiftly or the whole household would be rising unnaturally early. He held up his hand as Astrid opened her mouth to respond to her sister.  
“She is not pestering me, Cait. She wants to see the games as much as do you, it would seem. Otherwise you also would not be out of bed at this early hour.”  
The stairs creaked as Fen trudged up them to peer between the banisters, “Father, Eldred has brought the horses around.”  
“Relieve him then. I will be out presently.”  
Fen gave a loud sigh as he descended back to the foyer, “Yes, Father.”  
“Now the three of you shall return to your beds and wait until your mother has risen. I promise you, she will not be long about it.”  
In fact, he expected her to be up within the hour. Over the past couple days, their argument still fresh in her mind, they had again discussed his participation in the games. Finally she had allowed as to his reasons for doing so, agreeing that she would attend the opening ceremony but steadfastly refusing to return the days following to watch him compete. Relieved that they'd reached an accord he let the matter rest though he had rather she would have agreed to come to cheer him on, if only for one day.   
He kissed Astrid on the forehead, hugged Brynn tightly and stood, “I will see you soon enough, my loves. Mind your mother.”  
He trotted down the stairs, satisfied at the one-two clicks as their doors swung shut. Extinguishing the lantern, he set it on the table by the door, grabbed his cloak and headed outside to join Fen.

 

“C'mon Prin-cess!” Willa spat, giving the bed frame a sharp kick, “You're late, you are. Time to do your share.”  
“Fuck you,” Eris mumbled, pushing herself up from her pillow with a grimace. How she wished she'd never had those extra pints the patrons had pushed on her after her performance the evening before. Everyone had been in high spirits. The games were finally here. Every room at The Oak and Thistle was taken by warriors who'd traveled from all over the realms, their families, spectators, con men too. In such a anachronistic society, the scammers were almost harder to spot.  
“Freyr's lily white ass!” Willa cried as Neve scuttled past her to shake Eris.  
“Up, up we's work to do! Is it not excitin'?......ayyy.....leave off!”  
Willa had grabbed her by the collar of her dress and with a yank threw her away from the bed.  
“Tend to your chores, drow! Your Princess will arise soon enough, then she'll be ready to receive visitors.”  
Willa turned back to where Eris lay in bed in time to catch a heavy down pillow aside of her head.  
“Go shove your head back up Perth's ass, you jealous bitch!” Eris pulled the pillow back to swing again, “And leave Neve alone!”  
“I'll do as I please to her and 'tis your head Perth is like to find up his backside! You're Perth's pet now! You took my place with your brazen act, your talented tongue! You don't belong here, whore!” Willa's face was crimson, the blush extending to the swell of her bosom as she raised her hands, fingers curled into claws, ready to lunge at Eris but all at once, Neve was between them, her stark white sharp teeth bared with a menacing hiss.  
“Envious troll! You was the princess first and now you is reduced to filling mugs and servin' meals....ha! No better'n me! Touch Eris and I'll tear your pretty little face with me bare teeth!” she snapped her jaws together and Eris shivered at the resulting clack.  
“I'll have you whipped until you cannot crawl, you filthy drow!” Willa cried, leaping forward with a screech as the door slammed open behind her.  
“Willa!” Perth roared, “I told ya to fetch Eris outta bed not start a row! Th' patrons are waiting on their morning meals and Cabel can't do it alone. Now down the stairs with ya before I toss ya over me shoulder and carry ya to the kitchen!  
Willa scurried past Perth, a scowl fixed to her face as Perth turned to Eris and Neve.  
“Neve, ya follow Willa.....and stay out of her way till she's of a better mood.”  
As Neve hurried through the bedchamber door, Perth shook his head, “Eris, luv. Why can ya not get on with Willa for one day? One ruddy day?”  
Eris lifted her nightdress over her head, pitching it onto the coverlet, “Because she's a bitch. She came in here starting her shit, kicking the bed, giving me orders..,” she rummaged through the trunk beside her bed, pulling out a lilac satin blouse and matching bodice and a dark purple velvet skirt, smiling as the fabric glistened in the early morning sunlight. She pulled the skirt on, tying it at her waist, slipped her arms into the sleeves of the bodice and turned to Perth, “Tie me up won't you? You've scared off my usual helper.”  
With a loud sigh, Perth took the laces in his hands, cinching them until Eris gasped, “Ok hold it. That's enough. Any more and I'll pass out.”  
“Eris, I know Willa hates ya. I do. But I'm obliged to her father to keep her in my employ until she either leaves of her own accord or wakes up in Hel. If ya can't say nothing nice between the two of ya, then don't speak. Just keep the peace especially this week what with the games on.”  
Eris smiled over her shoulder at him, “I'll make you a deal. I'll shut my mouth for a month, kiss her ass, help her with a grin plastered to my face if you'll agree to let me go watch the games for one day...with Neve.”  
Perth rubbed the bridge of his nose, “And who might I ask is gonna help here at the Oak and Thistle while you're off on holiday?”  
“Cabel and Willa will be here and while the games are on, the majority of your clientele are going to be at the arena to watch. That's what they came here for, after all. Just one day....,” Eris sidled up to him, drawing a long fingernail down his chin to his throat.  
“Ya forget, I'm hardened to your charms......,” he frowned, his face flushing the very slightest pink before he gently pushed her away, “Ah....take a day and hang yourself. Be here for the evening meal and be fresh to dance. We'll have a full house ready and waiting!”  
Eris blew him a kiss as he strode through the doorway to clomp down the stairs, calling back to her, “Now get a move on! We've patrons waiting!”

 

“Brenna! Fetch more blankets from the cabinet in the sitting room,” Eidra called from the foyer as she bent to fasten Astrid's cloak. Edie was trying to sign something to her but she'd not the head to concentrate on it.  
“Cait, what does Edie want?”  
Cait watched her, “She wants to know where her mama is.”  
“Tell her she is upstairs helping Helgi.”  
As soon as Cait had signed Eidra's response Edie was off, bounding up the stairs crying, “Am....am....,”  
She had as of late been holding her hands to everyone's throat when they talked, watching their lips and trying to imitate the sounds. Colin had encouraged it, not at all surprised when she discovered the way to make sounds on her own, reiterating the fact that she was a bright child.  
“She shouldn't run up the stairs. She's liable to fall!” Sally gasped but Edie was already at the landing, making her way to Helgi's bedchamber.  
Outside, the clatter and jingle of tack grew louder as the wagon halted outside in the dooryard and Colin walked inside.   
“It's bleedin' cold this morning. You might want to bring more blankets....,”  
“You are too late,” Brenna appeared in the sitting room doorway, her arms full of heavy coverlets, “Take these to the wagon.”  
As she placed them in his arms, he regarded her, “Brenna, yer a vision today.”   
And she was. She'd picked out an amber hued dress with a brocade bodice decorated with a leaf motif and a satin skirt to match. She'd done her hair up like her mother to accentuate her long neck. Colin bristled as he imagined Chase's arm about her shoulders.  
“Thank you most kindly, Colin,”Brenna smoothed her skirt self consciously.  
Helgi started down the stairs, flanked by Ingrid, Edie before them, watching Helgi as if she could help her e'er she started to fall.  
“Colin, will you take the children out to the wagon and get them settled? Oh are Beth and Gretten coming?”  
Colin nodded, “They are. They're already outside.”  
Eidra lifted her cloak from the hooks by the door, “Then let us not waste time, Loki will be waiting for us.”

 

Fen anxiously scanned the Great Hall, marking all the Council members in attendance wandering about, chatting with one another. He'd jogged on ahead of his father who was walking a bit slower with Thor and Queen Jane. The halls were packed, in fact he'd never seen so many unfamiliar faces roaming about the palace. He frowned, frustrated.  
“Fen, Urtek and his family will be here presently,” his father put a hand on his shoulder, “Why do you not repair to the courtyard. Your mother, brother and sisters should be here soon. I will meet you in the Throne room. The delegates from the realms are already arriving.”  
“Yes, Father,” Fen gazed once more about the room before heading out into the halls again, ever on the lookout for Lisle in the flowing throng.

“Miss Potts, yer quite an accomplished rider,” Colin called from his place at the reins of the wagon.  
“Thank you. I've spent some considerable time at Tony's ranch in New Mexico. He insisted I learn how to handle a horse better.”   
Tony, Pepper, and Chase had been waiting for the wagon at the end of the access road to the encampment as previously planned. Now Tony and Pepper kept pace with the wagon. Chase with Brenna before him on his horse lagged a bit behind, talking, laughing. Colin preferred to drown them out with his own conversation.  
“ 'Tis been some time since you have been to Asgard,” Eidra turned to Pepper, “I am sorry it must be marred by such bloody ritual.”  
“Ah, she's seen more violence than you could imagine,” Tony piped up, “She's got tough skin.”  
Pepper rolled her eyes, “I have to. It matches your hard head.”  
“Miss Potts....what a funny name,” came a voice from the back of the wagon. Colin looked over his shoulder to see Cait, Astrid and Brynn hanging onto the slats, staring at Pepper and Tony.  
“Astrid,” Eidra cried, “How rude. Do apologize to Miss Potts.”  
“Oh she's right. It's an odd name,” Pepper laughed but Eidra shook her head.  
“It is rude to make fun of someone in such a way. I will not have such a display of bad manners, Astrid?”  
“I am sorry, Miss Potts,” Astrid mumbled as she sunk a little lower behind the slats.  
Pepper winked at her, “Apology accepted.”  
“So these games,” Tony mused, “Are they like the Olympics?”  
Colin eyed him, “Ah, they're games. I believe the similarity stops there.”  
When Tony raised an eyebrow, Eidra added tersely, “It is not uncommon for men to die in some of the sparring competitions. They forget themselves and their honor at times in a blood lust.”  
“My God!” Pepper gasped, “And this is perfectly acceptable?”  
“To the men, yes. To their widows most assuredly not,” Eidra scowled, studied the knitting in her lap, “At the very least not to me. Some believe it is a great honor. I see it only as a chance to...to,”  
“To be King of the hill?” Chase ventured.  
Chase and Brenna had joined them, now keeping even with the front of the wagon.  
“True berzerkers, if you'll forgive the moniker,” Colin glared at him before looking to Eidra, “But it's all for the right to declare oneself the best of the best.”  
“So it's the usual pissing contest then,” Tony clucked his tongue, “Men will be boys won't they?”  
Eidra burst out laughing to Colin's surprise, “I believe you have phrased it better than ever I could hope to. Well said!”  
“Mama, are we there yet?” Cait leaned between Eidra and Colin to peer down the road ahead of them.  
“It's the same no matter where you go, isn't it?” Tony nudged Pepper's leg with his boot, “Children will always ask the same question.”  
Eidra pointed at the spires of the palace rising from the landscape to dominate the skyline of the city, “Soon, Poppet, soon now sit down with Ingrid before you tumble from the wagon bed.”  
Colin watched Brenna and Chase fall behind again, whispering to each other, giggling and he couldn't help the frown which stole to his lips. All at once, Eidra was leaning over to him, her voice low in his ear.  
“Do not condemn their happiness, Colin. If fate has decreed their lives will intertwine again then so be it.”  
“I don't like him,” Colin muttered, half hoping Chase would hear him, “He's cocksure, crafty. Yer husband doesn't think very highly of him.”  
Eidra smiled, “My husband is a very difficult man to please especially where his eldest daughter is concerned. I suppose it is so for all fathers. Nevertheless, let us see where fate takes them. Harden your heart, dear friend.”  
“Aye, I will, so.”   
Dear friend. It always bolstered him to hear such terms of endearment from Eidra and the rest of the family. Colin sat a little higher in the seat, reining in the horses as they neared the gates of the city.  
“Mama, look at all the people!” Astrid cried.  
Eidra looked about them. Wagons, carts, carriages were streaming into the gates. People walked on foot, some on horseback. Women, children, men, grandmothers, grandfathers, sisters, aunts, uncles, it seemed as if everyone in the nine realms had heeded the call to the games.  
“Mama! Fire giants!”  
Far ahead of them, at least a good two feet above the heads of the tallest men rose a small contingent of delegates from Muspelheim, their skin brilliant shades of red. Eidra squinted against the morning sun, could one of them be Velos? She would have to move closer. She was eager to ask how Marwen was getting along.  
“It's getting late. I hope Loki knows we're in a bit of a traffic jam,” Colin steered the wagon to the right to avoid a smaller cart which had veered into his path.  
“I'm sure he knows how busy it is outside,” Brenna called to him, “We'll ride on ahead and tell him you are on your way.”  
Chase and Brenna moved through the sea of people, quickly outdistancing them.  
“It's like New York at rush hour,” Tony breathed, “Isn't it glorious? I feel like I'm home again.”  
“Glorious,” Colin echoed shaking his head.

 

Fen was trembling with anticipation. He had stood on the steps of the main palace entrance observing the bustle of activity around the great square. Table after table were erected upon the cobblestones surrounding the central fountain of his grandfather, the sheer number of people being too large even for the Great Hall to contain. Canopies punctuated the scene with grand splashes of color. Large braziers which would be lighted toward nightfall to ward off the chill of the approaching winter air, stood at the ready, filled with tinder and logs. The smell of cooking food hung heavy in the air making his stomach groan. The tantalizing aroma of roast pork, venison, spiced hot cider, mulled wine, roasted root vegetables, fresh bread, pies, cakes, tarts and a thousand other delectables drew him in all directions, at least until he spied her.  
An elegant, if simple carriage had pulled up at the bottom of the steps, footmen opening its doors to help down a woman with a tiny baby in her arms. Behind her, his hands out to steady her was Urtek, the last passenger to exit the carriage was Lisle looking even lovelier than when last he'd seen her.  
She was clad in a tawny brown dress which set off her hair and eyes to perfection, her cheeks rosy from the cool morning air. She looked up the stone steps and, spying him, smiled. His legs felt as if he'd just returned from a lap about the city limits as he forced a silly grin to his face. He started down the steps toward her, his hand out when his view of her was blocked by Brenna's face.   
“Go tell Papa Mama will be here soon. They are hung up in traffic.”  
“God that sounds so funny here in Asgard,” Chase added, ruffling Fen's hair, “Well you've grown up haven't you.”  
Fen pulled away from him, barely able to resist the urge to shove him backward down the steps, “Brenna, can you not tell Father? I was asked to wait for Mother here.”  
“I'll wait for Mama....ooh Chase look at all the food!....go on with you.”  
Fen was so angry he felt like crying. He peeked around behind Brenna but Lisle had disappeared, likely herded up the stairs with her parents into the palace.  
Without another word, he turned and shot back up the stairs through the palace doors. Maybe he could spot her again.

“At last,” Loki whispered as he stood to hold Eidra's chair for her.  
“Have you seen the constant influx of people out there? Had I but known, I would have risen to ride with you and Fen,” Eidra sat down, nodded to Jane who seemed ecstatic to see her.  
“Do you never heed my warnings? I told you how crowded it would be.” Loki returned to the chair beside her.  
“It is because you insist upon using the wagons for your conveyances,” Thor grumbled, “Had you a carriage, they would make way. It is settled. I am ordering one made for you.”  
“A carriage is a target for highwaymen and malcontents,” Loki began, “I much...,”  
“As King, It is my wish that my brother, the _prince_....will have a carriage at last,” Thor cut him off with a wave of his hand, “Milady, welcome to your first Winternights games.”  
Eidra nodded to him, “Thank you, your Majesty.” She gazed about the royal box, turning to watch Ingrid and Helgi settling the children behind her. Prince Lóriði sat apart from his cousins, regarding them disdainfully.  
 _“The poor dear. He is so very much like his mother,”_ she mused.  
“Where are Fen and Brenna....” Thor leaned over to Loki, “And your houseguest? Is he not attending as well?I did see his name on the roster of competitors. It would be bad form not to attend the opening festivities.”  
“Brenna sits in the stands with....” the name stuck in his throat, “A friend. Colin also opted to sit with our other guest Miss Chapel. Fen should be along soon.”   
“Brenna and Fen should be in the box as part of the family. Do you wish me to send for them?”  
“Thor,” Jane sighed, “Worry about your part. They're all going to be focused on you anyway.”  
Thor started to open his mouth again, closed it before staring at the floorboards.  
Eidra could sense the tension between them, watched Jane's restless hands play at the hem of her cloak, her eyes darting about as if unable to find anything to rest upon. She would try to catch Jane later while everyone was making merry and speak with her. Perhaps she too was upset about the games even though the King, as a rule, could not participate lest he, by some miracle, lose a competition and thus lose face in the eyes of his subjects.  
At the echoing bleat of a horn, the people in the arena seemed to come alive as all three gates into the interior of the arena swung open with a groan, pouring forth from each visible angle, a stream of competitors marching in time, led by muscular shield maidens, beating the drums tied at their waists.  
Eidra was suddenly transported back to the moment, a lifetime ago, when she stood there in the hard packed dirt of the arena floor, staring at the strange man who had won her servitude and she closed her eyes, a hand to her mouth.  
“Eidra,” Loki whispered, “Are you well?”  
She nodded swiftly, “I am, indeed. Where do you think Fen has gone?”  
Loki pointed up to the top rim of the arena where Fen was making his way quickly through the seats, “You see? Now you need not worry.”  
His hand covered hers, drawing it to his knee, a comforting touch as she waited for Fen to arrive.

 

He glanced at the woman standing in the doorway of the Oak and Thistle, her arms crossed, looking up at the spires of the palace looming high over the city. The echo of drumbeats sounded through the nearly empty streets, the ceremony had begun. She sighed heavily, looked over her shoulder as if she was thinking of stealing away, then shut the door with a bang.  
“More ale, sir?” came a voice at his elbow and he started back in his chair. It was the young drow, her ice blue eyes boring a hole into his soul, her face eager, slightly beautiful in its darkness.  
He shoved the stein toward her with a grunt and she slid it onto her serving tray, scurrying away toward the long bar at the back of the large room.  
His stomach was aching. He was hungry, hungrier than he'd ever been in his life. When he'd stepped from Jotunheim into Asgard, reality hadn't yet hit him until a few days later when he finished the last of his rations. The Asgardian diet was vastly different from his own. On Jotunheim, the cold tundra afforded little to no vegetation in their short summer season. Lichen and moss, tunberries, seaweed from the Oceanus supplemented Long fish and Skeel along with Grantan, the great beasts that roamed the frozen wastes. They were cubed, eaten raw. The Asgardians with their infernal fires cooked their meat until it was no longer digestible. A passing wagon on the road had offered him some scraps of what he called roast beef. Hungry beyond words, he'd tried it and soon after thought he was going to perish in the grass at the side of the road so horrible were the pains in his stomach. He'd wandered for a day, delirious until he found an icy mountain stream, quenching his thirst and slaking his hunger for the time being. When he found himself at the limits of the city of Asgard itself, he stood there for a great long while debating whether to return to the rift, step back through to Jotunheim and let his brethern run him through. Being here in Asgard was worse than death.  
When he stumbled into the Oak and Thistle to flop down at one of the tables and the drow brought him a mug of ale, he was delighted to find it palatable, with a sweet taste to it that didn't cause him to drop to his knees and vomit. Therein he would fill his stomach before he decided his fate.  
“What are the drums for?” he muttered to the woman as she passed his table.  
“The games,” she called, giving the tabletop a swipe with the cloth in her hand, “The self same reason why you seem to have the tavern nearly all to yourself this afternoon.”  
He tilted his head. She had the strangest lilt to her voice, like nothing he'd ever heard.  
“What are these games then?”  
She stopped at the edge of the bar, “Are you serious? Competition between men....and women so they tell me. Sparring, tug of war, pole throwing, races. Our boss Perth is one of the competitors. If he wins, it's a big honor for the Oak and Thistle.”  
“Mmmm, I have never heard of these games...,” he clutched at his stomach as it growled, “Hel and be damned.”  
“You okay?” the woman started toward him, stopped short, “You're not sick are you?”  
“Nay, I am merely hungry,” he grumbled with a wave of his hand.  
“Well I can get Cabel to make you a sandwich...CABEL!”  
“No!” he cried, “I cannot stomach your food. I come from a....very different place.”  
“I caught that right off,” she sniffed.  
“...and we do not cook our foodstuffs as you do.”  
The woman put a hand on her hip, “Well you should have brought food with you I'd say.”  
“What are you bellowing about, Eris?” Cabel appeared in the doorway of the kitchen.  
“Nothing, go on with your work.”  
Cabel crossed his fat arms before him as he trudged back into the kitchen, “Hang yerself then.”   
Eris walked over to the table and stood staring at the stranger, “What do you eat then?”  
“Nothing you'd have here. Lichen, tunberries, Long fish..” he pursed his lips together, aware he'd likely already said too much but the woman simply stood there.  
“Tunberries? Long fish? Never heard of them.”  
“Tunberries grow in Muspelheim and Jotunheim.”  
Eris turned around to see Neve standing behind her, “How do you know that?”  
Neve shrugged, “Common knowledge,” she peered at the stranger, “Are you from Muspelheim?”  
What choice did he have? The alternate answer would have them driving him out into the streets , possibly to be stoned to death. Were he to die, it would be in a way of his own choosing, nobody else's.  
“Yes.”  
“It's a pity we haven' tunberries here to give you,” Neve looked to the kitchen.  
“What are tunberries like?” Eris took Neve's arm.  
“Small hard grains, like the barley Cabel uses for making the malt,” she narrowed her eyes at Eris, “Why?”  
“Well we can't let him starve here in the middle of the tavern. How would that look? What about trying them as a substitute? It can't hurt.”  
He laughed to himself as the drow hurried into the kitchen. It could hurt aplenty but he was willing to try anything now.  
She returned in moments with a small earthenware bowl full barley, “It can be cooked. We use's it in our stews.”  
He picked up a few grains, sniffed them, opened his mouth and set them on his tongue.  
“Well?” Eris and Neve watched him.  
He crunched the grains between his teeth, enjoying the familiar texture, the rich terran flavor, swallowed.  
“Are you sure you doesn't want it cooked?” Neve pointed to the bowl as he took a handful of the grain and shook his head.  
“No they are fine as they sit. I owe you a debt.”  
Eris chuckled, “No, you owe us for a cup of barley and two ales. Now that is a debt.”  
“What is your name?” he called to her as she headed for the long bar at the back where Willa stood glaring at them.  
“My name is Eris, the young lady presently gaping at you is Neve...,” Neve immediately shut her mouth, trotting off to catch up with Eris, “And what do you call yourself?”  
He gazed into the cup of barley, “Sulyir.”  
“Welcome to Asgard, Sulyir” she nodded over her shoulder at him as she disappeared into the kitchen.


	52. 52

So caught up was Fen with stealing furtive glances with Lisle, he failed to notice his father standing before him, a bemused look on his face.  
“The ceremonies are concluded. It is time for the festivities. Will you sit here alone in the empty arena until dawn?”  
“Forgive me, Father. I was...,” and to his horror, he found he could form no excuse, “I was.....,”  
“So you were. Your mother was quite aware of this fact. Up with you now, let us take our place behind Thor and Jane.”  
Fen, his cheeks flushed scarlet, stood from his chair, moving to walk beside Brenna who had made her way to the box at the end of the ceremony and was now judiciously avoiding their father's hard stare.  
Dropping a bit behind the others, Fen elbowed Brenna, “Where were you?”  
“I was sitting in the stands with Chase, why?”  
Fen gestured ahead of them, “Father was looking for you. He said you should have been in the royal box with the family.”  
“He would not have allowed Chase to join us, therefore, I stayed with Chase.”  
They passed through the archway at the upper rim of the arena into the central courtyard, their father giving her one more stern look as they gathered to mingle with the Aesir while they waited for Colin and the others to reach them.  
“Had it meant I would be on Father's bad side,” Fen scowled at her, “I would have been seated in the box.”  
“Of course you would,” Brenna muttered, “Someday, you will see for yourself what it is like to yearn so to be with someone that you would defy the gods.”  
Fen laughed, in part, at the truth of her statement as he looked about the crowd once more, trying to catch a glimpse of Lisle, “I would wager it is like some sort of curse.”   
Brenna smirked at him, “And no magic known to man or god strong enough to break it.”

 

“I keep looking for Simon then I remember he's gone,” Beth sighed, clutching her mug of cider tight to steady it from the crush of people in the square, “Do you think he's ever coming back?”  
Colin shrugged, glanced about once again about until he spied Stark talking with Thor. He felt the need to keep an eye on Tony, whether because of his penchant for saying too much or his ability to irritate even the saints with his blunt opinions, Colin wasn't sure. He could only hope Miss Potts was keeping him in check.  
“I've not the slightest notion, Miss Chapel. I'm sure he'll be back eventually. Would you excuse me?”

She watched Colin melt into the crowd, heading for Thor. Gretten had left to refill his tankard at least ten minutes ago. Helgi and Ingrid were with the children at a traveling puppet show set up in the square, Eidra had wandered off with the Queen, Brenna and Chase had left to peruse the vendors tents. She was all alone.  
“At least Simon would keep me company,” she mumbled to herself.  
“Were the truth known, anyone would be honored to keep you company my dear,” came a voice at her right ear.   
She leaped to the side, the cider sloshing out of her mug to splatter on the cobblestones at her feet, “Jesus Christ!”  
The woman at her elbow gave a loud cackle and Beth was suddenly reminded of the Wicked Witch of the West in that old Wizard of Oz movie she'd worn out when she was a kid.  
“We shall get you another mug of cider,” she clapped her hands together, “Nola, you may walk about. I will be fine for now.”  
The young girl who was standing patiently at the woman's side gave a trembling curtsey as she drifted away from them, looking back every few feet as if expecting to be recalled at any moment.  
“My new protege. She is a bit nervous. She was picked from a family in Alfheim, first time she has been away from home. I must say you are not what I envisioned.”  
Beth held her half empty mug before her like a shield, “Do I know you?”  
The woman laughed again, peered up into her face and with a start, Beth realized the woman was blind.  
“You may have heard my name along with a curse or two. My name is Trena.”  
Beth frowned. Trena.....Trena? She _had_ heard the name, in fact, though she couldn't remember where.  
“....and you are Elizabeth Chapel. Daughter of the descendants of Zola. Let me see the rune Ingwaz. I am most curious as to what form it chose....”

 

Colin stood a few feet away listening to Stark talking about the upcoming initialization of portal two though he was simply running through numbers. From the bemused look on Thor's face, Colin doubted he had even an inkling about what Stark was saying. When Colin turned again to look at Beth, his stomach did a flip flop. Holding her hand, staring at the ring on her finger was Trena.   
As quickly as he could, Colin began to make his way toward Trena and Beth. What in the hell was Trena telling her? The square was so packed, he would move a few feet, find a hole, slip through, his progress much too slow for his liking. He twisted about, narrowly avoiding a woman holding a toddler on her hip....

 

“.....so the crack is not in fact a crack. 'Tis the symbol of the rune Ingwaz. How very clever..made of moonstone...”  
“Sorry,” Colin panted, stumbling to a halt before the two of them, “Beth, why don't you join us? I'll go see where Gretten is.....Trena,” he nodded to the seer only to have her clutch his arm in her hand.  
“Master Denehy. You are the sole reason I braved this maddening crowd. Would you help me find my new protege? She seems to have wandered off.”  
Colin looked to Beth but she was staring at the ring on her finger, her mouth open. Trena patted her shoulder with her free hand, “Excuse me, my dear. I must steal Colin away for a bit.”  
“Sure, uh.....yeah sure,” Beth raised her head trancelike to gaze about the square, “I'll...I'm going to find Gretten.”  
As Beth started away, Colin yanked his arm free from Trena's grasp only to have her reach for his arm again, giving it a good pinch in the process.  
“Ahhh! Damnit! What was that for?”  
“I have a matter of some import to tell you,” Trena scowled at him, “Have you no interest?”  
“Not in the slightest. Look, I don't have time for this!” Colin cried, hoping someone would come to his rescue but no one made to move toward him.  
“Yes you do, you impudent young whelp,” she pulled at him, turning toward the palace behind them.  
“No I fecking don't! Get one of the guards to help you find yer aide...,” he wanted to get as far away from her as he could, whatever it took but she only redoubled her effort.  
“I have no need of my aide now. I merely said such things to turn Miss Chapel away from us. I have something I must show you if you are to truly ken your place in this venture.”  
She waved a hand at the royal guards atop the stone steps and they swung the palace doors wide for her as she started upward. Colin wrenched his arm free this time, stepping back.   
“I don't want to ken, do you hear me? I just want to do my job which is to be a liaison between Asgard and Earth. Nowhere in the job description does it say anything about researching family genealogy or traveling down the path of bleedin' self-discovery! So, no, I don't need to go anywhere with you. I don't....!”  
“Then you will fail....when you are needed the most, you will fail,” she shrugged, her sightless eyes dropping away from him.  
Colin stood at the bottom of the steps gritting his teeth, watching her climb slowly, her foot feeling each edge before she hauled herself to the next level. When he was needed the most, he would fail? Failure was the last thing he wanted. If he was called upon to protect Loki and his family but because of his stubbornness he was unable to do so he would never forgive himself.  
“Christ!” he rushed up the steps to take her arm, “I didn't take this assignment because I intended to muck it up. Go on then, lead the way.”

 

Eidra sat back in the brocade easy chair across from Jane, “...but what of the baby? Will you not give birth in Asgard?”  
Jane threw her hands in the air, “I'm six months along, Eidra. Another few weeks and I'll be seven.”  
Eidra looked about the bedchamber, “Are you truly unhappy here? Palace life can be so very confining. Why do you not come to the manor for a visit? We welcome the company. Perhaps it would distract you, free you from the strictures of being a royal if only for a few days.”  
Eidra watched Jane's face crumble as tears glittered in her eyes. When she'd approached Jane to ask after her, Jane had clung to her, guiding them away from the square and into the palace where she poured her heart out about her arguments with Thor, her extreme bout of homesickness, her heartbreaking boredom.  
“Try talking to anyone in Asgard about the impact of climate on weather conditions or what types of clouds indicate rain or snow. Except for a precious few including your daughter, Brenna and Thor to some extent, they all stare at me like I've gone crazy. Either that or they laugh.”  
Eidra nodded, “Indeed. They believe as do we all that the gods send the rain, the snow. They help things grow, refresh us with cool breezes in the summer...”  
“Exactly. That's what I'm up against. Thor has brought books back from Earth for me to read, scientific papers, journals but what I wouldn't give to turn on the Weather Channel or talk to a fellow scientist. Hell I'd even sit and listen to Darcy's prattle. I'd love to hop in my car once again and take a drive wherever and whenever I want. Here, I try to take a walk and I'm shadowed by at least two guards. I'm not sure whether they're for my protection or to see that I don't escape,” here Jane gave a dry chuckle, “I miss walking into a grocery store, buying a damn bag of potato chips and a candy bar, going home, turning on a movie and flopping down on the couch in my old pajamas. Add to everything else Thor's frustration over Prince Lóriði's secret visits to his mother in the prison cells and you can imagine what it's been like the past couple months.”And don't take it the wrong way. I'm not looking for an escape. I just need a break.”  
“Thor must have been beside himself,” Eidra reached for Jane's hand, “I wonder would it not have been better to exile her somewhere less accessible...?”  
“Or chop off her damn head. Trust me, these past few days Thor has been seriously considering it. Lóriði' hasn't spoken to Thor for a week and this breaks his heart. Lóriði' may not be his flesh and blood but until he discovered Sif's whoring around, he proudly raised the boy as his son.”  
Jane let go of Eidra's hand to sink back into the chair, one arm over her eyes, the other draped over the growing swell of her belly, “The truth? I'm frightened. Before I became pregnant, if I wanted to pop back to Earth and stay two weeks instead of one, I could. I would have to listen to Thor chide me for staying away so long, you know, obligations, you-are-a-queen, blah blah but it was all good. After I have the baby, however, getting away won't be so easy...see there it is again, it sounds like I want to escape...not to mention having to have the baby here without any drugs, ha!” Jane hauled herself up from the chair to stand before the fireplace, chewing on her thumbnail, “I cry over paper cuts. Whenever I imagine what having a baby is going to feel like, I start to panic, I mean there's so much that can go wrong, the baby could come out not breathing or the cord could become wrapped around its neck. It could be breech, it could be premature...,”  
“Jane, I had four of my children in my own bed. I delivered Brenna in a tent on a blanket. Cait was my only exception. Mothers have been delivering babies safely since the beginning of time, it is not impossible. Perhaps you are restless because you are afraid.”  
When Jane's expression stayed the same, Eidra sat forward in the chair, “Jane?”  
“I know. I know I'm upset in part because of the baby but I was feeling restless before I was pregnant. I need to return to Earth. I need to see if these feelings are a passing phase, a result of hyped up hormones or if I've made a horrible mistake.”  
Eidra stood, moved to her side to join her before the fire, “You love the King do you not?”  
Jane nodded, “Tragic isn't it?”  
Eidra thought of Loki, of their devotion, their ever stormy relationship, their unquenchable desire, their deep love for one another, “All unions have their share of tragedy. My marriage has survived raging storms, heartbreaking loss, horrible arguments because I love Loki. I know you cannot ken, nevertheless, he is my heart, I am his. If your love is strong, it will persevere, it will thrive.”  
Jane slipped her arm into Eidra's, “I'm not much for religion so if you'd send up prayers to the gods, maybe they'll take pity on me.”  
Eidra patted her hand, “You do not need pity, you need encouragement. You need to be sure of yourself.”  
Jane smiled sadly, “I need a lot.”

 

“Not much further...” Trena cooed.  
Colin felt increasingly uneasy. Trena had guided him along the corridors of the palace, through sections he'd never been privy to, opening doors he wouldn't have noticed had she not been with him, wondering at one point, how she could find her way about the palace without her aide. When she tapped her temple with a roar of laughter, he had all he could do not to scream.  
“Ah! Colin. When we heed the calling to be a seer, the decision to answer is not made easily. We lose our sight, 'tis true. We leave our home to live in the palace as servant to the King and his council but we gain much in return. While I do not see with mine own eyes, I am able to see...,” she stopped, waved her hand before his face, “....with yours.”  
A seer _and_ a telepath? He put a bit more space between them as they continued on their trek through the palace halls. Her predictions were eerie enough, now she was inside his head? He wasn't keen on giving up control of his senses to a madwoman.  
They reached a set of tall doors which, judging by their condition, saw little use. When she started to pull at one of the large iron handles, he set her to one side, giving them a yank. The doors opened to the outer wall of the palace, sliding across the floor with a deep groan and Colin looked up at the sky. The sun had finally set. Distant cheers echoed through the air from the city square. Ahead of them was a cobblestone path. In the distance, its entrance lit by torches on either side, was a tall structure built from dark stone with two guards flanking its entrance. He pivoted about to take in their surroundings. They were in a secluded courtyard, empty except for the building in front of them. When he again set eyes on it, he put a hand to his chest. He'd been here before. Or he'd dreamed of the place.  
“Aha,” Trena squeezed his arm, whispered, “Like coming home is it not?”  
Colin stared at the building, following it upward to the turrets silhouetted against the waning light, strange words crowding his tongue. A picture book flashed across his memory, filled with strange drawings....snapped shut before his eyes.....a familiar voice beside his ear..... _“Yer too young to understand. Someday I'll show it to you, Col,”....._  
“Reliquary,” Colin muttered, irritated when Trena clapped her hands together.  
“Yes! Yes! Oh do lets hurry before you are missed.”  
He was betting he'd been missed a long time ago but he was powerless to turn back now. He had to enter that building, had to see what was inside.  
“What story are you going to feed the two of them?” he cocked a thumb toward the guards as they started forward.  
“All doors in this palace open to me, besides, they know they have nothing to fear from the likes of a woman and an innocent Midgardian for this place is well protected,” Trena approached the guards who bowed deeply to her.  
“I have been given permission to show this Midgardian visitor the Reliquary. Open the doors.”  
The guards hesitated, glancing at one another before regarding Colin and Trena, “No off-worlders have ever seen the relics of Asgard.”  
“And to everything there must be a time. I have permission from the King. Would you question him so?” she waved at the arched doors, “Now grant us entry or consider the punishment for an order ignored!”  
With a loud sigh, the guards turned to the doors and gave them a push inward while Trena turned to Colin, “Come now,”  
They stood at the beginning of a long hallway flanked by tall arches. Torches stood ablaze on each column. At the end of the long corridor, Colin spied a tall cylinder bathed in blue light.  
“Follow me,” Trena waved him along, “And mark all that you see.”  
“What if the guards go running back to his Majesty with that shite you fed them?” Colin kept his voice low, feeling the need to whisper.  
“They will do nothing of the sort. They know how far my influence stretches. Do not trouble yourself with them. Observe your surroundings.”  
He looked left and right. Between the columns were niches set into the stone walls. In the first niche stood a pedestal upon which sat a glove seeming to be made of solid gold. Gems, rubies, emeralds, diamonds, lined the fingers, a large opal glittering in the center of the palm.  
“What in hell is....?”  
“The Gauntlet,” Trena tugged at his sleeve, “Move along. There is more to see.”  
Another niche held a glass box encased in a dark carved metal frame. Strange markings were etched into the glass, the blue glow issuing from the interior much like the object he'd noticed at the opposite end of the building. As he drew closer, he was surprised to see what looked like a snow storm in miniature raging beneath the surface of the glass.  
“The Cask of the Jotunns. Were they to possess it again, they would bury the nine realms in an endless winter.”  
Colin glanced up at Trena, “This...reliquary is where the Rune Elementals....were.”  
“Were, yes. Right here.”  
They approached another niche. A pedestal stood, empty save for a green velvet pillow upon which sat an ornate thick silver bracelet. Upon its surface were four insets, also empty.  
“The runes were once united with this bracelet until they were stolen. Volundr forbade them to be placed within its coils ever again, thus keeping the stones always separate.”  
“If the stones are kept away from each other, how in the hell do they work?” Colin peered at the scrolled workings in the silver, “Don't the runes have to be together?”  
Trena grinned, touched his shoulder, “Yes, the protector has but to touch the runes and they will imbue him with power beyond measure, the power to save the nine realms, so it is said. They will serve their purpose and be secreted away in other forms until they are needed again.”  
Colin turned from the pedestal, continuing down the long corridor past shimmering swords, a black marble sphere, a thick red leather bound book, other grand mysterious objects until he reached the pedestal at the end.  
Trena ambled up beside him, noting his hesitation, “You see yet you do not believe.”  
“Tony said it was brought back here after New York but.....I guess I expected it to be locked safely in a vault somewhere.”  
“And therein lies the final proof you need. Touch the cylinder. The Tesseract will do you no harm within its chamber.”  
Colin reached out a hand toward the pedestal and was greeted with a sound like a boulder being dragged across the floor as the wall behind the pedestal slid open. From the darkness emerged a monstrous collection of metal plate and rivets fastened together into the form of an immense hulking warrior. Where the seams of the plates met, a rainbow of light played through, sending flashes of red, green, blue, and yellow to dance among the pillars. In what amounted to a face were set two red ruby eyes, seemingly lit from within and they glowed as the creature extended a plated hand toward Colin, hesitated, and stepped back, bowing deeply to him, the plate metal creaking and scraping.  
“The Guardian knows the Protector. He knows the ancestor of his creator,” Trena patted the great metal giant's unyielding arm, “Simon Foster will return and with him, the gods willing, he will have the other runes. Then will the nine realms be safe once again.”  
Colin stared upward at the giant metal Guardian fighting to keep his footing, not to drop to his knees and scream into his hands. Every time he thought he'd weathered the next bombshell, someone reloaded the goddamn turret.  
“That's what you think Simon has gotten off to? Some bleedin' quest for these runes? This is insane bollocking nutters!”  
“I do not think so, I know so,” Trena tapped her head, gestured to the Guardian, “We are leaving. You have done your chore well. You may retreat.”  
The Guardian swung its head to him. Colin gave a tight nod, watched as the Guardian turned about and vanished into the space behind the pedestal.  
“Let us be off now. You can surely think of a good excuse on the return trip.”  
Still in a daze, he offered her his arm. He was desperately hoping that no one had noticed his absence or that they'd simply believed he was off wandering the square because his capacity to form a coherent thought was going to be severely impaired for the rest of the evening.

 

Luck was on his side for once as Loki seemed surprised to see him when he reappeared, asking him what he thought of the festivities. He made a few perfunctory comments, excusing himself to walk about the square, passing Beth and Gretten who sat side by side at the edge of the fountain. He caught her gaze but kept walking, staying well away from everyone until, some time later, Fen found him sitting on the steps of the palace, informing him they were ready to leave for home.  
Eidra insisted on riding in the back of the wagon with the twins who were overtired and fussy so Loki gestured to Colin, indicating the empty space on the wagon seat beside him.  
“Let Fen ride Agathon home. I would have company to keep me awake as I am well spent from the day's activities and Lightning would walk until he reached Rialo were the reins given to him.”  
Company was the last thing on Colin's mind but he climbed into the seat beside Loki and they were off through the city gates into the countryside.  
The lantern hanging from the pole between Lightning and Blackberry swayed hypnotically with their canter. Even though Loki had invited Colin to sit with him for company they rode for a bit in silence, listening to the hushed conversations in the wagon bed behind them and Colin found himself nodding off more than once. After he had to grab the seat to keep himself upright he slapped his hand on the seat.  
“Ah it's been a long day.”  
“It has indeed,” Loki murmured, glancing back into the wagon where Eidra and Helgi lay sleeping, the twins nestled between them, “Eidra begged me again not to compete but I cannot back out now without losing face. I represent my brother, nay, the royal family, in the arena. Thor is in no condition to compete, even were he able to.”  
Colin sat up straighter, stretched, “Oh? He looked to be in fine form today.”  
Loki shook his head, “One must be focused upon his opponent in the games and my brother's mind is far afield. The Queen is returning to Midgard to visit her people within a fortnight andThor believes she may elect to remain there after the baby is born.”  
Colin turned to Loki, “Yer not serious. Stark didn't say anything about any portal trips to me.”  
“Oh, she will likely travel the Bifrost,” Loki yawned, “Thor does not trust the portal.”  
“Wise man,” Colin leaned against the backboard, “This isn't going to create an intergalactic incident is it? I mean I can't imagine having to set up visitations. Which realm are we using for the supervised meetings this month? God help us.”  
“It is not a matter to be made light of,” Loki chided though he gave a soft chuckle, “...but I do ken your humorous take on the subject. Eidra told me Jane had confided much the same to her but believes she needs simply to see her people again and all will be made right.”  
Behind them came a bark, “Hey kids, no PDA, keep your hands to yourself.”  
Colin rolled his eyes though the effect was largely lost in the dim lantern light as Stark reined his horse in even with the wagon seat, “You going to be at the longhouses early tomorrow for the meeting about portal two's initialization?”  
“Nope. You'll have to give me the transcript on a chip,” Colin jerked his thumb backwards, “I'm going to be in the arena tomorrow for competition.”  
“Oho wait just a minute. You weren't in the lineup at the opening ceremonies,” he leaned across to wave at Loki, “He wasn't in the arena. He's a field agent not an American Ninja warrior. Has this been cleared with HQ?”  
“It's on the down low. Jesus, relax,” Colin grimaced.  
“Listen,” Stark pointed at him, “Your job may be liaison and all around party animal but mine is to see all my men come home in one piece and that includes you.”  
Colin peered beyond the lantern to the glowing marker stuck into the ground at the fork in the road just ahead of them, “Hey this is your turn isn't it?”  
Loki slowed the wagon to a halt as Chase and Brenna trotted up to the side.  
“Papa might I remain at the encampment tonight?”  
Loki moved not a muscle though his eyes slid to hers. She let out a loud sigh as she dropped down from the horse, climbing into the back of the wagon.  
“I will speak with you soon,” she whispered to Chase who brought the horse about, leaning in for a kiss.  
“Hey, I said no PDA!” Stark cried as he and Miss Potts broke away from the group, “Come on Wells before you cause more trouble.”  
Colin watched them down the road until he could barely make out their silhouettes against the sodium lamps surrounding the encampment, heard Brenna mumbling in the back of the wagon, “.....am twenty seasons. Am I not old enough?...”and at last they were off again toward home.  
Eidra's whispered reply made him smile to himself.   
“If you wish to reach your twenty-first, you would do well to keep a civil tongue in your head. Twenty is still young enough for your father to take you across his knee.”  
Colin glanced over at Loki and his smile grew for though there was determination in Loki's eyes, there was a sly grin upon his lips. He looked to Colin and gave him a conspiratorial wink.  
“Many are the times when I have found myself upon my wife's bad side. I could almost feel sorry for Bren,” Loki confessed as angry whispers began in earnest behind them, “...Almost.”


	53. 53

Simon awoke with a start and for a moment he thought he was safe in his cot back at the encampment, then Lelia stirred beside him. He turned over onto his back to stare up at the low rafters of the ceiling, warm, dim light dappling the thatch with dancing shadows. He rose on his elbows, peering out the window across the small bedchamber, just barely able to see the flames from the torch in one corner, sure if he sat up, he'd be able to see the top knot of the guard posted just outside.  
The front door to the little cottage was similarly guarded. Andra, the woman who, along with her band of warriors, had discovered their camp in the woods had seen to it they were well treated, fed, given fresh changes of clothes and water with which to wash off the dirt of the road. In fact she became a rather gracious hostess once back in her village though they were warned to stay in the cottage until she came for them.  
“We've no dispute with the two of you,” she'd promised them, “In fact, were you not Melos's clan, we'd have likely brought you to the village, given you what you needed to complete your trek and sent you on your way. 'Tis nothing personal.”  
She would say no more, only left them with the warning to stay in the cottage and a promise of return to speak with them on the morrow.  
Lelia groaned, throwing her arm about his stomach, pulling him back to the pillow, “We've no place to hurry off to now. Must ye rise so early?”  
“I'm not getting up, I only dreamed I was back at the encampment. When I woke up, I thought I was still there. Go back to sleep.”  
“Mmmm,” Lelia giggled, stretched, “I dreamt I was helping Da birth a sheep the size of our mare, Melda. Either that or 'twas a curly haired horse.”  
Lelia began to hum, rubbing her hand back and forth atop the coverlet across his stomach and slowly he relaxed. Before he drifted back down into the ether, a thought drifted through his head. If they were indeed in a land where magic was the rule rather than the exception, there was magic in her voice. He gathered her to his side and closed his eyes.....

 

…..only to open them what seemed like mere minutes later, the illusion shattered as he saw the room was now bathed in bright sunlight. He felt for Lelia, but she was gone. He sat up to see her leaning on the bedchamber window recess, staring out the window.  
“ 'Tis certainly a busy place.”  
Simon climbed out of the cot to join her. Through the uneven glass panes, he could see men and women roaming about outside their cottage, hear the sound of children's laughter, men yelling, a baby crying, women talking, the distant clang of a hammer against an anvil. He could also smell the heavenly aroma of food cooking and his stomach grumbled.  
“Do ye think they've yet sent word to Harmand that we're here?”  
Simon shrugged, “I've not the slightest idea. I'd think they would have by now. Andra seemed pretty eager to stick it to him, so to speak.”  
Lelia crossed the room to the bedchamber door, reaching for the door handle when she stopped dead, looking at him with eyes wide. She stuck one ear to the wood planking of the door, “Sure there's someone in the common room! It sounds like they're cooking.”  
Lelia crooked a finger at him, ignoring his waving hands as she opened the door a crack. At the small fireplace, leaning over a kettle hung above the flames, stood a stout young woman, her dark brown hair done in a single braid down her back. She had on a simple linen dress, a tawny brown apron about her waist. Even from a distance, the beautiful needlework adorning the cuffs and hem of the dress and the apron was evident. In a straight backed chair before the fire, talking in low tones to the young woman, sat Andra, a sewing needle in one hand, a piece of cloth draped across her lap.  
Lelia slowly slid into the room to stand, hands behind her back. With a growl, Simon followed suit, shutting the bedchamber door and making Lelia jump as both women turned toward them.  
“Ah, Master Foster and company. My daughter Kensi was just cooking up the morning meal. Plover eggs and barley porridge with dried berries.”  
Andra gestured to a small table in one corner of the common room, “Sit. Our messenger will take the morning to reach Harmand. You've plenty of time,”  
Simon pulled out a chair for Lelia, then took his own seat, the old anxiety creeping in as he fiddled with the placement of the wooden charger, pewter cup and fork before him. Andra lifted the garment from her lap to hold it up for Kensi who smiled approvingly and Simon was surprised to see it was a small felted baby bunting.  
“Kensi is expecting her first child. 'Twill come in the dead of winter, the gods have mercy on us. I've been sewing steady on since.”  
“Your clan name,” Simon moved the pewter cup yet again, “It means weaver doesn't it?....I may have heard you wrong....,”  
“It does indeed,” Andra's chest swelled outward as if it could possibly find more room in the confines of her snug bodice, “We have made clothing for Kings and Queens, noblemen and women, princes and princesses. We are the finest garment makers, spinners, and weavers in the whole of Alfheim,” here Andra's face darkened, “When we migrated from Nidavellir generations ago, we were deemed the royal clothiers to King Hreidmar.”  
“And yet ye left?” Lelia put a hand atop Simon's cup.  
Andra frowned, hr needle moving in and out of the fabric, “Other clans grew jealous of our success, started disputes like the one we have with Harmand, driving us to find another realm in which to put down roots and so here we have remained for countless ages.”  
“So why...” Simon straightened the fork again, pulling it out of Lelia's reach as her hand groped for the utensil, “...so why or rather how did Harmand's clan come to reside here in Alfheim as well?”  
“Why they were here in Alfheim long before us,” Andra paused, her needle hovering in the air, head tilted toward him, “You mean you know nothing of your clan history? You do not know the legends about the guardians of the Great Runes? Melos was close friends with the Asgardian Royal Guard Volundr but when the time came to take the rune Laguz and part ways for the safety of the realms, Melos couldn't bear to live so far from his friend in Asgard and so settled in Alfheim. When our clan founded this village and lay claim to the land, Harmand contested our presence, saying we crossed their borders, encroached on their lands. This is our largest, though not our only dispute and one of the reasons you both find yourselves our guests. We are going to barter you for our borders. They let us reclaim the land they drove us from, prime grassland for our livestock and rich soil, mind you, and they will have you with our blessings.”  
“And if he doesn't agree?” Simon tucked his hands beneath his thighs, felt his palms starting to sweat.  
“You could always stay here,” Kensi waddled to the table to take their chargers, “Become weavers.”  
At a stern look from Andra, Kensi hurried from the table to fill their plates, “They'll do as we ask or you will remain as our guests until the old hickory headed fool changes his mind.”  
Simon winced at the kick Lelia delivered his shin beneath the table, “Ah...if Harmand refuses to barter with you, we'll have no choice but to return to the encampment. We can't very well remain here permanently.”  
Kensi had been ladling barley porridge onto their plates, now she slowed, looked up at Andra whose mouth was drawn up into a tight bow.  
“And if we let you go, what is to stop you from crossing our lands and reaching Harmand on your own?”  
“Nothing at all,” Lelia stuck out her chin, defiant, “Sure and the same thing that's keeping us here in the first place.”  
Here Andra smiled at Kensi, nodded her head. The young woman seemed to relax then, returning to the table, arranging a bowl of hard boiled Plover eggs in the center and setting their plates before them.  
“If Harmand finds the barter not to his liking, we will send you back to Asgard with a group of our finest warriors. They will make certain you reach your camp safely.”  
Lelia stood from her chair, “But we don't want to return to Asgard, do ye ken? We have to reach Harmand's village!”  
Andra set her sewing in her lap again, regarding them, “And I am left to wonder what is it that you are about in your eagerness to reach Melos's folk.”  
Simon shifted in his chair, biting his tongue as tightly as he could without drawing blood, waiting for Lelia's response as she stood there, trembling. At last she eased herself back into her seat, her hands on the armrests, “We are to be married,”  
Andra sat forward as Simon struggled to keep from sliding to the floor.  
“An Asgardian and an Off-worlder? Married? You've run off so you might wed? Your poor parents. Do they know you've chosen an Off worlder for your mate?” Andra shook her head, “Why did you not tell me?”  
“Would it have changed anything?” Lelia muttered.  
“HA! No, no, not at all, however I do admit I was more than intrigued when I found the two of you in the woods. I am....,”  
“...a terrible gossip,” Kensi finished with a giggle, ignoring Andra's scowl.  
“....I am nothing of the sort. I am merely curious....and, truth be told, a bit soft hearted. Now will have to wait and see what Harmand's heart is made of.”

When the morning meal had been cleared away and they were finally left to themselves, Simon sat at the table, arms crossed glaring at Lelia.  
“What possessed you to tell Andra we were traveling to Harmand to be married? What were you thinking?”  
Lelia glanced at the cottage door, fingering the hem of her dress, “I was thinking of what they might do if we'd told them what we were truly on about. Did ye want me to tell her what ye've in yer pack? Did ye want me to say “Oh we're on a mission to find the Rune Elementals. We were sent on this merry chase because me Aunt is the royal Seer?”  
Simon ran his hand through his hair, “No, Jesus, no...but...”  
Lelia studied his face for a moment, “But....”  
“Well, if she tells Harmand we were on our way to be married....he might believe her.”  
Lelia hung her head, her voice barely a whisper, “But I thought we....that ye loved me.”  
Simon reached across the table, holding his hand out, staring at Lelia until she placed her own hand into his.  
“Now you listen to me, I do love you. I was caught off guard is all. We wanted to keep our agenda secret and you said the first thing that came to your mind, I understand.”  
“Whatever else could I say? 'Tis ye who occupy me thoughts during the day, me dreams at night.”  
He lifted her hand pressed a kiss to her knuckles, “And Harmand can believe what he likes. We'll soon be safe with our own people.”  
When Lelia brought his hand to her cheek, he was struck by the ease with which he'd regarded Harmand's clan as his own people. The further they traveled from the encampment, the further he felt removed from his old life, the portals, New York, the longhouses. All of it seemed a quickly fading dream as he caressed her face.  
“Soon.”

 

Long shafts of sunlight poured across the flagstones lining the palace corridor, quickening Loki's steps.   
“We'll get there in time,” Colin looked at his wrist, “It's just half past eight.”  
“Father,” Fen panted, doubling his stride to match his father's, “Will you be able to watch me... race on the morrow?”  
“I will, now let us leave off this chatter, it slows us considerable.”  
Loki stopped in his tracks, so quickly, in fact, that Fen and Colin sailed by him, stopping at least a yard ahead.  
“Father?”  
Loki backtracked a few steps and turned to stare down the corridor to his right with a deep sigh.  
With a purposeful though slower stride, Tamarin at her side, came Frigga, resplendent in a dark red gold brocade gown, her serpent headed silver cane beating out a swish click rhythm in time with her gait.  
“Mother, how beautiful you look today. Fen, come greet your grandmother.”  
Fen rushed to greet her with a deep bow, “Good day, Your Highness,”  
“So formal now that he has become a man,” Frigga raised an eyebrow, putting her hand on Fen's shoulder, pulling him to her in a warm embrace, “Are you competing in the games today?”  
Fen shook his head, stepping back from her, “I am to race on the morrow, Grandmother.”  
“I shall enjoy seeing you win,”she smiled, clasped his hand.  
“Mother, do not invite pride, ” Loki put a hand at Fen's back, “He will do his best.”  
“If he is near as swift as was his father when he was a boy, he will have every right to be proud,” Frigga nodded to Colin, “Master Denehy,”  
“Yer Highness,” Colin bowed, “How are you this fine day?”  
Frigga clapped her hands together, “I am quite well. I cannot wait to see how our warriors perform.”  
“Mother, truly. Why do you not rest in your chambers and let the couriers keep you informed of the day's events?”  
Frigga's mouth dropped open, her hand to her chest, “And miss an event which occurs once every ten seasons? Unthinkable. I must stand for Odin. He will be watching from his throne in Valhalla, how disgraceful would it be for him to see me sequestered in my bedchamber like an elderly matron?”  
Loki closed his eyes. Never would he willingly wound her pride by telling her she was indeed grown old, why tell her something she knew but then her age was not the issue.  
“Besides, I wish to see my son rule the day,” she took his hands in hers, “You did exceeding well at your last competition.”  
“Mother, I have not stepped into the arena in such a capacity in over twenty seasons,” Loki moaned, ignoring Colin's look of surprise, “And I do not recall doing well at all. Perhaps you are speaking of the wrong son.”  
Frigga let loose his hands, wrapping her arm into his as she urged him forward, “I am speaking of you, Loki. Now come along before we are late.”  
Loki dug his heels into the flagstones, “Mother, I do not want you to see me spar.....,” but Frigga tugged at his arm.  
“You do not want me to see you should you fail and I say, do your best and you will have won the day no matter where you finish.”  
Frigga's astute summary loosened his feet from the floor as they started en masse down the corridor again.  
“Yer a wise woman, yer Highness,” Colin smiled, falling into step beside her.  
“Shhh,” she held a finger to her lips, “Do not divulge my secret.”  
“What secret?” Fen piped up as Frigga winked at Colin.  
“If I told you, it would not be a secret would it.”  
“I suppose not,” Fen frowned, confounded by their laughter.

 

“Will you slow down?” Eris grabbed Neve's wrist with one hand, the other pulling the hood of her cloak farther over her head. If any of the group happened to be in the crowd, the last thing she wanted was to be noticed. If she ran into Chase or Buzzy, they'd call her out for certain. The thought almost made her reverse direction back toward the Oak and Thistle.  
“I never seen games like this. Don' wanna miss 'em!”  
As they neared the arena and Eris saw the streams of people pouring into the arena from all sides, she began to relax. If she spied anyone from her group, all she needed to do would be to look away, move right or left. They'd never be able to find her again.  
The roar coming from inside the arena seemed to split the sky. Tightening her grip on   
Neve's wrist, Eris shoved her way around, between and behind people until at last they passed under the tall archway to stare wide eyed into the pit. There were multiple events going on at one time, the arena floor divided into three sections though Eris immediately found what she was looking for in the center circle.  
She wove her way down the stone steps, searching for space on the wooden benches flanking either side.  
“Eris, over there. On your left!”  
A couple seats sat empty nearly to the middle of the row beside her. Still pulling Neve along she started to sidle in front of the spectators, ignoring the epithets, the shouts and cries until they were safely in place.  
“So many people,” Neve murmured, pressing closer to Eris's side, “Did ya see the way they was looking at me when we walked in front a them?”  
“Tell them to fuck off,” Eris smiled at Neve's subsequent fit of giggles, straightening herself upward to see over the head of a tall man sitting in front of her.  
Two men stood poised at the center of the arena, both holding long heavy staffs at the ready. The larger of the two adversaries cut an imposing figure. He was dressed in leather breeches studded with black iron nubs, his hairy chest bare save for two leather straps which criss-crossed from each shoulder to his waist. His face was painted black, two blue stripes extending from his hairline over his eyes down to his chin, his steel gray hair pulled back into a topknot and tied with a piece of yellow silk. Eris, however, was far more interested in his opponent.  
Loki held his staff in the crook of one arm, wrapping a white strip of linen around the knuckles of his right hand. He was dressed similarly though his breeches bore no studs. His black hair was tied tightly up with a green piece of silk, in a high ponytail and he was barefoot. When he turned his head to look up into the stands, she noticed his face was painted in thin green stripes stippled with red dots. Not until he swiped at his nose with the back of his hand did she realize the red dots were blood.  
“I thought royals wasn't supposed to compete,” Neve whispered to Eris who shrugged, looked at the woman sitting beside her with a baby in her lap.  
“Excuse me, are members of the royal family allowed to compete in these games?”  
The woman turned to Eris, regarding her and Neve disdainfully as she tilted her head to the arena floor, “You see the Prince do you not? Then it must be so.”  
_“Kiss my ass,”_  
“True. I only thought because...,” she hesitated until Neve prompted her.  
“Because he is a prince and therefore above all...”  
“Because he is a prince and therefore above all..,” Eris repeated, growing more irritated as the woman laughed aloud.  
“He stands for the King who himself is above all. He represents the royal family in the games, as does his half breed son. You are not of Asgard are you?”  
Eris felt the rush of adrenaline course through her. For a moment, she thought the woman could tell she was from Earth but Neve leaned across her lap.  
“She is Alfari. Can ya not see it?”  
The woman sneered, pulling her son further onto her lap, “She speaks with the manner of the lowborn. Alfari she may claim to be but she is hardly nobility and she is sorely ignorant of Asgardian protocol.”  
“I am right here!” Eris cried, “Would you mind not talking across me? I asked a simple question, damnit. I didn't expect a debate on my pedigree!”  
The woman set her baby across her shoulder, stood and without another word began to make her way further down the benches, her head high in the air. Eris felt the blood rising to her cheeks as she clenched her hands into fists.   
_“She speaks with the manner of the lowborn...she is hardly nobility.”_  
She was still white trash, an exotic dancer, a common whore No matter how hard she tried to pull herself up from the bottom of the heap, she could never find purchase enough to stop the subsequent backward slide. She yanked her hood farther over her face even as Neve sought to pat her cheeks with her callused hands.  
“Now, now. You don't pay her no mind. She might be well attended but she is ugly all the way down to her heart.”  
There came a great blat from a horn, drawing their attention to the royal box in the middle of the stands. Thor was standing at the edge of the railing peering down into the arena.  
Eris looked to Loki, seeing him give a short nod as Thor raised a hand and brought it down. “Continue!”  
From then on, Eris was lost, mesmerized by the agility, the ferociousness with which Loki and his opponent fought, the crack of staff against staff, the cries of exertion, the thunder from the stands as the men wrestled to gain control over one another. Even the men and women in the other two circles had paused and were now watching the match.  
“Is it to the death?” Neve shook her arm, “The Dark Prince looks like he is ready to give.”  
Eris shoved at Neve, “It can't be to the death can it? And don't call him Dark Prince. It makes him sound....evil....,”   
Eris sat further forward, finding it hard to keep her seat, nearly leaping to her feet as Loki dropped to one knee in the hard packed dirt, his face twisted into a grimace as his opponent circled about him. She glanced up at the Royal box to see Thor and his queen both standing at the railing now, Thor with his hand raised again, waiting to end the match, his face full of concern. A collective shout went up from the spectators then as Eris turned back to see Loki thrust his staff between his opponent's legs, giving it a violent turn, taking the giant of a man off his feet to land on his back with a great groan. If Loki had been ready to drop from exhaustion, he seemed so no longer as he scrambled atop his opponent, pressing the point of his staff against the man's throat with a shout.  
“YIELD!”  
The arena fell silent, all eyes upon the two men sprawled in the dirt until the man raised his hand in the air. Everyone was at once up from their seats with a roar. Eris heard a man exclaim beside her, “The final round is tomorrow! The Prince may yet become Asgard's champion!”  
Eris stepped up onto the bench to see over the heads of the cheering crowd, saw Loki struggle to his feet, waving his staff in the air as the crowd grew louder. A man approached him, his hand out and as Loki shook it, Eris shrank back down to sit on the bench, her heart pounding. There was no way Mister Denehy could possibly pick her out of the crowd. There had to be thousands of people in the stands, the sun cast a noontime glare from overhead and the commotion of celebration was enough to give her cover, still she hadn't expected to feel so shaken when finally she saw him again. He was the last person she wanted to meet up with. Feeling angry, defeated, she stood up, grabbing Neve's wrist again.  
“Come on, let's get back to the tavern. We don't want to keep Perth waiting too long.”  
“But you says you wanted to meet the.....Prince Loki. Hasn't we got time?” Neve hopped up and down, trying to see over people's heads again.  
“Another time. I'll let you try on my sparkly dresses again tonight if we can go now.”  
Neve clutched at Eris's arm, “Dress up! Oh I loves dress up! Can I stays in your bedroom? The kitchen gets terrible cold now as Winternights is upon us.”  
Eris trudged up the stone stairs toward the entrance they'd come through, “Sure, Perth never says anything, just gotta watch Willa, she's liable to give us trouble. You can come up after she goes to bed.”  
“...slit her throat,” Neve muttered as they broke free from the chaos of the arena to wind their way through the city streets back to the Oak and Thistle.

 

When they flew through the front door of the tavern, Eris spied Sulyir at his usual corner table with his ale and bowl of grain. At the end of nearly every day, he could be found at the Oak and Thistle. He refused to let Willa wait on him, preferring Eris or Neve to attend to his needs. Perth, at Eris's urging, had managed to procure employment and simple lodging for Sulyir at a farm a couple rods outside the city and Sulyir had promptly paid off his debt to the tavern.  
Eris had also started to engage Sulyir in conversation, talking about her work at the Hammer and Serpent, spinning a back story for the time being, that she hoped sounded believable. She'd started to trust him even though trust often gave it to her but good at every opportunity, still she continued to find time for him each night.  
As they sailed past his table, he nodded to them, “I was of a mind you were going to the games.”  
“We did,” Eris called back to him, blanching when Neve added.  
“She couldn't see her prince today, he was busy sparring.”  
“Neve!” Eris yanked her forward, guiding her into the kitchen, “Help Cabel and Willa with the evening meal. There'll be hungry patrons coming in soon.”  
Eris picked up Sulyir's empty mug to refill it, “Girl is more trouble than she's worth.”  
“Who catches your eye then? A prince?” Sulyir smiled at her.  
What harm could it be to tell him? He was a simple man from Muspelheim.  
“Come now. All the realms have sent their finest men for the games, what prince has caught your eye?”  
“Loki,” it was barely a whisper but Sulyir's eyes grew wide.  
“Odin's war prize? Indeed?”  
“ERIS!” came Cabel's roar from the kitchen followed by a loud hiss and a screech.  
“Damnit, we'll talk later. I'll get your ale in a minute......NEVE!” Eris trotted into the kitchen.  
Sulyir sat back, his mind working over the old stories which he'd grown up hearing, of the great war between his people and the Asgardians, how Odin had laid waste to the King's fortress in Jotunnheim, tearing the infant crown prince Loki from Farbauti's arms, running her through with his spear and then in a fit of twisted compassion, claiming the Jotunn prince as his own, contaminating him as Sulyir himself was now contaminated, taking from him his heritage, his birthright, bringing him here to Asgard to suffer as the second son of a tyrant.  
Sulyir listened to the sounds of shouting coming from the kitchen, took a coin from his pocket, set it on the table and walked out of the tavern into the cursed sunshine to make his way back to the farm, his thoughts still racing about his head like a raging winter storm. 

 

The old man stood staring at the empty benches, stroking his beard as the crowd milled about, filtering out of the arena.  
“Avrum, there you are!”  
Mister Mindel looked up to see the concerned face of Chenai, one of the young Asgardian scholars with whom he'd been studying hovering before him on the other side of the bench.  
“I was looking all over for you! I thought you had been swept away by the tide of citizens. Are you well?”  
Avrum stared at the bench hard. He'd been too far away when he pivoted about on the bench a dozen or so rows below her but when he caught sight of the woman speaking with her black skinned companion, he was sure he was looking at....  
“....a ruekh.”  
“What say you?” Chenai put a hand on Avrum's shoulder, bringing him back to the present.  
“A ghost, my friend. I thought I saw a ghost,” when Chenai tilted his head, Avrum smiled, “...spirit? Ah...the mind plays tricks on a meshuggeneh. Let us wish the day's victors continued success and hasten back to our quarters before Saval heads to dinner without us.”  
With a final look at the bench and a shake of his head, Avrum began the climb to the top of the stands, a hand on Chenai's arm to steady himself, his cane tucked into the crook of his elbow.


	54. 54

Eidra let out a long deep sigh, sinking further into the hot water of the copper tub. Ingrid had helped her settle the children into bed, Brenna was reading quietly in the sitting room, having returned from visiting Chase at the encampment. Since the beginning of the games, she had taken advantage of her father's absence to pay Chase daily visits until finally Eidra had given her a choice.   
“Attend the games for one day. Watch your father. Represent the family as the eldest child and I shall pretend ignorance of your comings and goings.”  
Brenna had happily agreed, riding off to the city on Blackberry early that morning while Eidra saddled Sally's horse, Lilac and headed in the direction of the encampment. Her arrival so startled the guard at the front gates, he dropped his radio twice before he was able to call for his superior, Agent Kenworth who looked nervously about the encampment as she stated her wish to speak with Chase Wells.  
“Ah, the boss....Mister Stark, I mean, he's in the city at the games. I'm not really supposed to let uh....you.....Asgardians....on site without his okay.”  
Eidra had glared down at him from atop Lilac, her arms crossed, “Am I to ken this would include my daughter, Brenna? For she has been making regular visits here to see Master Wells. I am sure Master Stark is unaware of such indiscretion on the part of his guardsmen.”  
Kenworth had shifted from one foot to the other, the guard at the gate drifting into the background until he was inside the white booth where he'd been sitting when she'd arrived. A minute later, Kenworth was holding the radio in his hand.  
“Chase Wells report to the west gate house.”  
“On my way,” came the static filled reply.

She stretched out in the bath, smiled to herself, recalling the look upon his face when he at last arrived at the gatehouse, giving her a short bow.

“Milady, I...I wasn't expecting you.”  
“Of this I am sure,” Eidra dismounted to the ground, “I would have a word with you alone.”  
Chase had walked her into the encampment, stopping at the corner of longhouse one, a distance away from the gatehouse and the two agents staring at them.  
“What can I do for you?”  
On the way to the encampment, she had weighed her words carefully, hoping she wouldn't come over as demanding or threatening but every scenario she played out in her head brought her to one single conclusion. She would need to be firm, moreso than she had been the day of the opening of the games when she'd watched Brenna and Chase judiciously avoid contact with Loki, wandering the square during the celebration, sitting in the stands at the ceremony, riding together on Chase's horse at the rear of the caravan on the way home.  
“Since your return to Asgard, I have witnessed my husband's daily struggle with our eldest daughter's decision to return to your side and it grieves me. Brenna has confessed, only to me mind you, that your return was based solely on your wish to continue your relationship with her..,”  
“Well...I mean it was a big reason on my part but Stark, he offered me the chance because he knew I'd been here...,”  
When she held up her hand before him, his mouth clamped shut as quickly as if she'd used her husband's spell magic.  
“Brenna is a grown woman now, able to make her own choices but this does not mean they do not affect us and her secret visits,” she paused, giving a dry laugh, “....to you leave us feeling as if she is endeavoring to hide from us a situation of which we are already aware. Therefore I am formally inviting you to dine with us at the manor on the day of Winternight where you will formally announce your intentions toward Brenna to my husband and lay his fears to rest....or give him to realize them.”  
Chase had fidgeted about, rubbing the back of his neck, staring at the ground until she took his hand in hers, “If your intentions are rather only of the moment you must be honest, with Brenna and with Loki. 'Tis better to break a heart sooner than to wait until it cannot hope to be repaired.”  
“No, no I'm serious about Brenna, Milady, honestly I am but what if he won't allow us to see each other? What do I do then?”   
“I cannot tell you. Would you go against him willingly?”  
He had fixed her with a hard stare then, “For Brenna, yes ma'am, I would.”  
“Then so be it,” she'd given his hand a squeeze, “You will be at the manor come Winternights.”  
“What if Stark says I can't go?”  
She'd dismissed the possibility with a wave of her hand, “I will see to it permission is given.”

She closed her eyes, content, swirling her hands about in the water, playing with the currents they made.. She had done what she'd set out to do, bring about a reconciliation or an end to the whole affair, at the very least a truce. Either way...

Vesta paused at the sound of the front door, leaning on the broom with which she'd been sweeping the sitting room floor, clamping her hand over her mouth to stifle a scream as Loki strode through the archway, looking about.  
“Where is Eidra?”  
“Milord, she is...,” Vesta pointed toward the ceiling, “She is in the bathing room. Dear me, you...might I take your cloak?”  
Loki winced as he unfastened the heavy cloak at his throat and draped it over Vesta's outstretched arm, glad of the weight off his shoulders.   
“It will need to be cleaned. Do set out a fresh one at the door for the morrow will you?”  
Vesta picked the cloak from her arm, holding it out from her with a grimace, “Yes, Milord. I shall fetch my husband to attend to you at once.”  
“No,” Loki looked up at the ceiling, “I will speak with Eidra first. Do not trouble yourself. I will call for him as needed.”  
He pivoted about and trotted out of the sitting room as Vesta, shaking her head, strode toward the kitchen holding the filthy cloak out before her.

 

Eidra stretched again, her feet just brushing the other end of the tub. The water was starting to lose its heat, she would have to get out soon so they could freshen the water for Loki when he returned from the games. At the thought, she frowned to herself.   
The night before, he had refused to allow her into the bathing room with him. Observing how he held himself gingerly on his right side, she was sure he sought to spare her from seeing the wounds he'd sustained earlier that day but no matter what she said, how piteously she begged or chided him, he remained firm, merely kissing her forehead before he shut the door behind him. The evidence was found later in the bloodstained tunic she spied Vesta carrying down the stairs that following morning.  
She shifted position once more, felt a hand grab at her toes and let out a screech, flailing for purchase as she kicked hard against it, sloshing the water up over the edge of the basin where it fell with a splat onto the hardwood floor. She clutched at the sides, pulling herself up to sit staring at what this morning had been her husband but now looked a disheveled madman come from the forest after a fight with a bear. His one recognizable feature, his smile, beamed even brighter from the dirt and paint covering his face.  
“Loki! Great Freyr! Do you mean to drown me? What possessed you?”  
There were rapid footsteps and the bathing room door was flung wide as Ingrid rushed in.  
“I heard the scream from the sitting room! I....I thought you had fallen.”  
Her eyes grew wide upon seeing Loki who laughed, “She is well. She only suffers from a mischievous husband. Thank you for your concern, Ingrid.”  
Ingrid curtsied, “Of course...Milord....do you need me to fetch Hal?”  
“No!” Loki shook his head, “I would spend a moment alone with Eidra.”  
“Yes, Milord,” Ingrid curtsied once more, hurrying out of the bathing room with one more backward glance.  
Eidra gazed at him as he knelt by the basin rubbing her feet beneath the water. His hair he'd fastened into a ponytail was dislodged from the leather strap in various places. He'd painted his face black and green that morning but now it was smudged together, wiped clear in some spots. A purple bruise bloomed along one cheekbone, dried streaks of blood striped his chin and his upper lip. The left arm of his tunic was ripped open, the gash traveling up his forearm staining the edges dark red. She dared not examine the rest of him.  
“I would you had rather spared me again today. Why do you delight in worrying me so?” She fished for the washcloth which had floated to her, wringing it out as she slid to the far end of the tub and started to wipe his face clean of the paint and blood.  
“Ah, gently!” He moaned, flinching as she brushed along the bruise.  
“Gently says he. Next time do not put yourself in harm's way says I. Now turn your head..to the right. Better.”  
She worked in silence for a minute until curiosity drove her to break it, “Must I now plead for you to tell me what all this suffering has wrought?”  
When he gave a soft chuckle she wanted to shove his head beneath the water and kiss him all at once, “Am I to ken you wish to know how I stand in the games?”  
“What else?”  
He leaned back on his heels, drawing his tunic carefully over his head and dropping it to the floor beside him, “Indeed. Then you should know I stand second only to the warrior whom I must best on the morrow.”  
“And who be first?”  
He tipped forward again, splashing the water at her playfully, “Why young Silas.”  
“Oh Loki!” Eidra cried, “Oh do not hurt him!”  
Loki came around the side of the basin to cup her chin in his hand, “Whomever the gods see fit to raise on high will be victorious. I cannot promise I will not hurt him nor may he promise the same but know that I shall do no more than I must.”  
Eidra smiled, pulling herself up to stand and stepped out of the basin to the floor, pulling a linen towel from the chair beside her.   
“Here, take the greater share of dirt from you with this water and we will draw you more,” She tucked the towel about her chest and started to unlace his breeches, “It pains me to see your body gather yet more scars. Soon there will be not one place upon you left unmarked.”  
He shivered as she let the breeches drop to the floor and guided him to the tub, steadying him when he stepped into the water, averting her eyes from the red streak along his ribcage.  
“I will return with Ingrid and fresh water,” She turned toward the door where her robe hung but he held fast to her hand.  
“Do not be so eager to leave my side,” he tugged at her, “But join me here.”  
He kicked at the water with his feet, a sweet grin lighting up his face, darkening hers with a rare crimson bloom.  
“I will stay if you like only let me tell Ingrid to heat more water,” she made to work her fingers from his grip, stifling a laugh as he held tighter.  
“Leave Ingrid to her chores. I wish you in here,” he pointed to the water in which he now sat.  
Eidra yanked her hand free, gaping at him, “Both of us in this tub at once? Loki, really, the basin is fit for one and you are filthy!”  
At this he gave her a forlorn frown, “Please, my heart. I rushed home because I longed to see you.”  
Eidra closed her eyes, “I cannot fit. It is not like the basin at the palace,”   
She opened one eye a bit to see him still gazing up at her, “You will not be denied?”  
His response was to tug at her again. She hesitated but a moment before untucking the linen towel and tossing it to the floor.  
“This shall be a disaster, I tell you,” she bit her lip as she steadied herself, easing one foot into the water, squealing as she felt herself slip a bit.  
“All will be well, come lift the other foot,”  
As soon as she was firmly stationed above him, he pulled her down to straddle his legs.  
“Ow! Oh my knees, this will not work.....Lo...”  
Her words were cut short as he covered her mouth with his, her struggles slowing as he slid her forward to press against him, her arms encircling his neck, the only sounds in the cavernous room the gentle slosh of water, the swift intake of breath, a moan heavy with lust.  
“My head was filled so with thoughts of you today,” he nipped at her collarbone, “I could scarce keep my wits about me..”  
She shook her head, her hand dipping into the water to find him ready, “As evinced by your...oh my....you....,”   
Grasping her buttocks, he lifted her up, felt her hips tilt back ever so slightly as the tepid warmth of the bathwater was replaced by silken heat and the weight of her full against him.  
“My heart,” she whispered upon the skin of his shoulder, her fingers gripping the flesh at his biceps, their ability to form coherent speech all but lost as he thrust upward to meet her, replying with an animal growl. Where her knees had sat uncomfortable upon the hard copper, they were now buoyed by the action of their lovemaking and she held tight to the sides of the tub, watching him worship her body with his own, hands covering her breasts, palming the nipples into exquisite hardness, kissing wherever he could reach. Her throat, oh her throat, making her to tighten around him, her chin, cheeks, the tip of her nose causing her to giggle. When his rhythm began to break he could only gasp, “Rise.”  
With a whimper, she lifted herself from him, reaching into the water to feel him pulsing into her hand, his hot seed mingling with the cool water.  
“Oh so wonderful,” she sighed as he reached for the sides of the basin to regain his seating.  
“Ah 'twas much too quickly finished for both of us I fear,” he looked down.  
“Indeed, you shall remedy it anon when you come to bed,” Eidra laughed as she leaned in for another kiss, stroking his brow. As their eyes locked, she threw her arms about his shoulders, pressing her cheek against his.  
“An' this water has all but lost its cleansing power,” he sighed as he rubbed her back.  
“I must confess I find it hard to let you withdraw from me even as I know how dire could be the consequences of such an unguarded moment. Were it that we could have another child. My heart aches whenever I spy a mother and her baby and woe betide me should I have cause to hold it.”  
Loki pushed her from him, “I share your desire but I would not wish for another child were it meant I would exchange one life for another only imagined. I could not survive losing you again. When Vesta is delivered of her baby, you may play nursemaid to it. I am certain she will be ever grateful.”  
The click of the bathing room door and a resulting high pitched scream caused them both to jump, sinking into the tub as Ingrid covered her eyes with her hand.  
“Oh Eidra why did you not tell me? Oh Odin's beard!”  
Loki sat up with a chortle, “Ingrid, you are turned scarlet!”  
In response, Ingrid turned around, her back to them, “I only came to tell Milady the hot water is ready for the tub. Forgive me.”  
As Loki continued to laugh, Eidra gave him a slap on the chest, “Do not tease her so, you imp! Ingrid, please do have Hal help you with the water, this tub must be emptied. I will need unguents and linen strips for Loki's wounds.”  
Eidra climbed from the tub, retrieving her towel, casting a concerned look at the gash on Loki's arm which had broken open again and was now oozing blood.  
“Get you out of that filthy water. I will be back.”  
Ignoring Loki's renewed outburst of laughter she reached for the robe on the peg and wrapped her arm around Ingrid's waist, “Come, let him regain his senses.”   
She shut the bathing room door behind them, the ghost of a smile playing about her lips.

After Eidra dressed the wound on his arm he sent her to the bedchamber, promising her he'd soon join her though the hot water so soothed his aching muscles he spent more time in the basin than he'd intended.  
Upon entering his bedchamber, he spied Eidra draped across the bed, sound asleep, still dressed in her robe. Tenderly he slid the heavy garment off her and turned down the lantern on the bed stand, resettling her beneath the covers beside him, gazing at her face, peaceful in the glow of the moonlight streaming in through the window. For these past twenty seasons, his first thought upon waking in the morning, his last thought before closing his eyes each evening had been of her, even through the darkest times when she was lost to him, through the happy days after they were once again united, she was his greatest joy. He stroked her cheek, felt her stir though she kept her eyes closed.  
“Mmm, better now?”  
“Yes, my heart.”  
He draped his arm across her stomach, watching her sleep until her silhouette blurred, fading into dreams.


	55. 55

The morning had started out freezing cold but now as they stood outside the city limits at the edge of the palace fields, now barren rows of soil, dusted with a flurry of snow, waiting for spring's planting, Fen began to warm up aided by Brenna.  
“Pace yourself, remember what Gunnar told you,” she rubbed his arms briskly, “Do not expend all your energy at the start of the race for it is a test of endurance not speed. Save your final push for the finish line.”  
“I will,” Fen looked at her, “Thank you, Bren.”  
“Thanks for what? I expect you to come in dead last,” she smiled at him, “Worms are notoriously slow.”  
Fen shook his head, glanced behind him at their father, who gave him a quick wink.  
A loud blat pierced the air and Fen pulled from Brenna's grasp, “They are lining up, I must go.”  
“Good luck.”  
They watched him trot over to where the other men were assembling at the starting line.  
“Gunnar tells me he is fast.”  
Loki turned to see Silas standing there, arms crossed.  
“Then so must Gunnar be to keep pace with him.”  
Silas laughed then, “True. He is a man to be proud of.”  
They started toward the line together.  
“Second in his class at the academy. He is to become a Royal Guard next season. A high honor in Asgard. You have every right to be proud.”  
The men were in position. Anticipation, excitement was palpable as the people lining the road along the fields waited, their cheers held like wild stallions newly come to the bridle. At the sound of the horn once more, the men were off, racing past the roaring throngs who trotted along with them for some distance until they were lost to the forest as they turned down the assigned path.  
“And now to wait,” Loki squinted at the sun, shrouded in morning mist.

 

At first he kept pace with men twice his age, passing them as they tired, slowed. Up ahead he could see Gunnar and another boy, Halfdan running side by side. He grew closer and closer still until he was even with Gunnar.  
“Was wondering.....when you would …...catch up.”  
Fen sidestepped a large rock, “Was wondering when you.....would slow down.”  
Gunnar laughed and for a while, they kept pace with each other, Halfdan falling behind a bit until it was just the two of them.  
Fen chanced a look back at a rise in the trail. The rest of the group were some distance behind, Halfdan still only lagging a few steps behind but dropping back, holding his side with a grimace.  
“Work through it,” he thought to himself, “It will ease,”  
They reached the turn which would send them back to where they began, to the finish line. People had lined up at the curve to cheer them on and with a stab of excitement, Fen spied Lisle jumping up and down waving at him like mad. As he passed where she stood, he heard his name called out, “FEN!”  
He grinned, looked over at Gunnar who was smiling at him.   
“It seems you will....have someone waiting.... for you.”  
Fen laughed, “...would seem so.”  
They approached the southern end of the palace fields with trepidation upon Fen's part. He did not expect to be vying for first place against his best friend. Halfdan had fallen far behind and another older man had taken his position, closing the distance between them rather quickly.   
As the finish line became visible, Fen turned to Gunnar in time to watch his friend drop to the ground with a roar.  
Fen skidded to a halt, racing back to Gunnar who lay in the dirt holding his knee.  
“Gunnar! Gods what happened?”  
“I turned my knee,” Gunnar hissed through clenched teeth, “Why are you still here! Go!”  
Fen could hear the footfalls of the man approaching rapidly behind them but he took Gunnar's arm, pulling him to the side of the trail as spectators ran to them.  
“You are hurt. I cannot..”  
“Hel and be damned. GO!” Gunnar cried, waving him away, “GO!”  
Startled to his feet, Fen dug his toes into the dirt at a sprint, listening to the labored breathing of the man mere feet behind him. Calling on his reserves, he pushed himself harder, ignoring the ache settling between his ribs, focusing hard on the green pennant waving above the finish line. The shouts and cheers build into a deafening crescendo until at last he was passing the pennant, looking up into the happy faces of his sister, his father as he dropped to the ground in exhaustion.  
“First place!” Brenna was crying in his ear, “You are the fastest worm in the nine realms!”  
“Well done, my son!” his father was lifting him to his feet, embracing him, “Very well done!”  
“Gunnar,” Fen gasped, “Hurt..”  
Silas was watching the runners cross the line, waiting for Gunnar when Loki motioned to him, “Silas!”  
Silas ran to them, “What is wrong? Where is Gunnar?”  
“He hurt his knee,” Fen pointed up the road, “Near the middle fields. He told me to keep going.”  
Silas clapped Fen on the shoulder, “As well you should have. My congratulations to you, please excuse me, Milord,” he bowed to Loki and was off running along the line of spectators toward the middle fields.  
“I did not want to leave him, father.”  
“You are a loyal and unselfish friend...and so is he,” Loki took his cloak from his shoulders and draped it around Fen, “There will be other games.”  
The sea of people around them parted briefly as Colin appeared by their side.  
“Ahh, I missed it didn't I?” Colin stopped beside Fen, “Did you win?”  
They stared at him for a moment before Fen found his tongue, “Um, yes, yes I won first place. Master Denehy, you are covered in mud.”  
“Aye,” Colin chuckled, looking down at himself, “I was the loser in the tug o' war. I told you I was no great hand in the games.”  
“But you did garner third place in the wrestling match,” Loki waggled a finger at him, “That is nothing to dismiss lightly here in Asgard.”  
“Only because I had longer arms than the poor man. He couldn't disentangle himself from me. Pure luck I placed at all. It's been years since I hit the mat in school.”  
Loki glanced up the road, “I must beg to be excused from present company. My final match is at hand and I must prepare.”  
“Be careful, Papa.” Brenna encircled his neck in a fierce hug, “And good luck.”  
Loki patted her back, “I will need far more than luck. I will see you at the arena.”  
As Loki started back toward the city, Fen gestured to Colin and Brenna, “Come, I want to return to Gunnar.”  
“What's wrong with Gunnar?” Colin asked as they headed up the road past the other runners still trickling in.  
“He hurt his knee,” Fen called, “Or he would have been the victor this day.”  
“Don't sell yerself short, son.” Colin sidestepped a man, “Always believe yer capable of more than you believe.”  
Fen smiled to himself, “Yes sir.”

 

Loki tried to focus on the hand floating before his face. His ears were still ringing, he drew in precious lungfuls of air, felt his heart a hammer in his chest.   
“Milord?”  
He propped himself up on his elbows as the ringing subsided, letting through the shrieks and cheers of the crowd.  
“Silas, you must give me a moment. I am an old man now,” he groaned.  
“You are hardly old,” Silas reached for his hand, hauling him to his feet, supporting him as he swayed unsteadily.  
“Still you have won the day, nay the game,” Loki raised his hand in the air as the arena erupted again, “And you may now say you availed yourself of the opportunity to give outlet to old conflicts.”  
“Milord, do not speak so. I am ever your loyal servant....”   
Loki shook his head as Silas let go of his hand and he stood upright at last  
“ 'Twas you witnessed unspeakable acts by my hand in your tenderest years.”  
“All made right by your equal compassion, Milord,” Silas retorted as they started toward the King who was fast approaching them.  
“You've a larger heart than most my boy,” Loki murmured while Thor embraced Silas.

 

Loki extended a hand to help Brenna up into the wagon though she swatted it away seeing him wince at the effort.  
“I am able to haul my backside up without help, Papa. Do not trouble yourself further. I do not want to bring you home broken. Mama has been certain you would perish every day this week.”  
Lightning pranced nervously beside the wagon, rearing a bit as Colin tried to mount him.  
“Whoa, boy! Come to!” Colin cried, grabbing for the reins to calm the stallion until Loki stood from the wagon seat and climbed to the ground.  
“Here let me ride him home, you take the wagon. He is likely upset by that abomination before us,” Loki jerked a thumb at the tall ornate carriage parked in front of the wagon, a set of draft horses hooked to the front. When Thor presented him with the carriage that morning, Loki had resisted the urge to throttle his oaf of a brother...

“I had it decorated in green and gold, your royal colors. And look, your royal standard is on the doors and the medallion at the rear. Go on step into it.”  
“Thor, I told you I did not wish for a carriage.”  
Thor had opened the door with a flourish, “And yet here it is. I am sick to death of seeing you roll into the courtyard in that wagon...,”  
“It is far swifter than this contraption will be....”  
“....and listening to the court laugh behind their hand, call you the Prince of Sheaves, royal farmhand and all manner of titles. It vexes me.”  
Loki had bitten his tongue, holding his laughter in check as Thor threw his hands in the air.  
“If you will not accept it on your own behalf, then do so for the comfort of your brood. It is well large enough to seat them all.”  
Loki had stood outside peering in until Thor practically lifted him into it. He'd stood staring at the plush seats, imagining Eidra sitting on them, dressed in her finest gown.  
“Very well, for my family then. I, however, shall continue to ride my horse.”  
Thor had broken into a wide grin and Loki knew he'd lost the fight then.

Lightning continued to prance nervously, jerking to a halt several times along the road home so that they were forced to rest a few times until Loki held him back from the carriage, slowed his gait and was able to keep him moving forward.  
He stroked Lightning's neck, watched the carriage bouncing along the rutted road far ahead.  
“You have nothing to fear from that overblown wagon. When we are home, I shall brush you down and bring you a pail of apples.”  
Lightning shivered, gave a soft whicker as they cantered alongside the wagon.  
“So tomorrow is the award ceremony then?” Colin eyed Loki, “What, pray tell does second place garner?”  
“All places afford their bearers great honor among the realms. Each man or woman will receive ceremonial swords inscribed with their achievement. Those in first place will furthermore be awarded five thousand gold coins..,”  
Colin whistled, “Nice. That's a hefty sum here in Asgard, so?”  
Loki nodded, “Indeed, it is two seasons wages for a royal guard. Second place will earn twenty-five hundred gold coins, third will earn a thousand gold coins so you, Colin, will receive a sword and a thousand coins for your performance in the Toga hӧnk.”  
Colin grimaced, recalling how many men he'd pulled into the muddy pit before be himself had been yanked into the foul smelling soup.  
“I must say I'm proud. Third place, not bad for a Midgardian, eh?”  
“Surprising to say the least,” Loki smiled, “You must have untold reserves of strength to have lasted so far into the competition. Will your assignment allow you to keep your prizes? I know you have certain protocol you must follow.”  
“Ha,” Colin glanced at Loki, “What prizes?”  
“Why the very prizes I mentioned....,”  
“Papa,” Brenna cut him short, “Colin means he will not necessarily tell his superiors of the prizes, therefore negating the need to refuse them upon principle.”  
Colin's lips quivered as he fought a smile, Brenna poking him playfully in the side.  
“Ah.....I see. You were toying with me. Well played.”  
Up ahead loomed the road to the manor house. They watched the carriage turn in to disappear behind the trees and Loki kicked Lightning into a trot. All at once, Lightning reared up, back legs stamping the ground, his forelegs kicking the air. Loki reached for the pommel but too late, his fingers closing about thin air as he fell away from the horse, trying, in the fraction of a second he was afforded, to brace for the impact, landing in the dead grass at the side of the road. Air rushed from his lungs in one great whoosh, screams assailed his ears along with the thunderous vibration of a hoof as it shook the ground inches from his right leg. He took a ragged breath in, heard Brenna's cry, “Papa!” and looked up to see the side of the dappled horse as it rushed down at him.  
“Papa!” came Brenna's scream again, spurring his legs to push at the ground, scramble to his left as Lightning's body met the hard packed dirt of the road. The sharp edge of a hoof flew by his shoulder, a scant inch from kicking him across the jaw, another passing between his legs as he crawled clear of the flailing animal.  
Brenna and Colin were out of the wagon followed by Fen who had been asleep in the wagon bed seconds before.  
Lightning gave a high pitched shriek, his massive head flopping about in the dust of the road, legs kicking as if he were running from some unseen assailant until, abruptly, he stiffened, shuddered and lay still.  
Loki pulled himself up by the stone wall edging the manor grounds, holding it for support, his legs weak, body numb, looking over Lightning to where Brenna stood, hands across her mouth, tears running down her cheeks, Fen, stunned, staring at the horse as Colin knelt down, put his hand on Lightning's neck.  
“Ah fuck,” he muttered, “He's gone, Loki.”  
Loki staggered to where Lightning lay, dropping to his knees beside his head.   
“Heart probably gave out. Are you alright, now?”  
“Valiant, loyal steed....,” Loki whispered, “He was so old. I had thought to leave him to pasture but each time I would come to saddle Agathon or Blackberry he would stretch his neck out and nip at my cloak, tug on it as if to say “Master, you have missed your mark. I am right here” and I would choose him....every....,” his words catching in his throat, he leaned down to press his forehead against Lightning's soft muzzle, heard Brenna's soft sobbing.  
“I'm sorry, Loki. Damnit,” Colin wiped at his eyes, feeling useless and angry for it, “Are you sure yer okay? You took a right hard fall.”  
Loki nodded, brushed the velvet that would nuzzle at his hand for treats every morning, breathed in the sweat, damp leather that was comfort, joy to a horseman and at last sat back on his heels.  
“Fen, take the wagon and fetch Eldred to help. Bring the horses, harnessed, back here. We cannot leave Lightning here in the road. We will bring him home and build a pyre for him. Brenna go tell your mother what has happened.”  
“Papa, I am so sorry,” Brenna murmured before racing down the road toward the manor.

Eidra came running up the manor road to where Loki and Colin now stood.  
“Oh no, oh no! Oh Loki!” She cried, dropping to the road beside Lightning's body, wrapping her arms around his neck as she pressed her cheek to him.  
“He was our first horse. We bought him as a two season old stallion in Cole our first season on the farm in Rialo.”  
Loki bent down, lifting her from the ground to enfold her in his arms, “All lives end, my heart. Hush now. Remember him as a fine steed.”  
Eidra burrowed into Loki's arms, “An excellent steed.”  
The jingle of metal echoed up the manor road as Eldred and Fen drove the team back to where Lightning lay, Eldred running on ahead until he spied the old horse and ground to a halt, his hand to his chest.  
“Ah no! He had been acting off the past couple morns. Refusing his feed, stamping at the ground,” Eldred rasped, “He knew, he knew his sunset had come.”  
Loki and Eldred secured Lightning's body while Colin and Eidra stood off to the side of the road, quiet, somber. A couple riding by on their horses, nodded, watching the proceedings with sad countenances. When finally they began the drive down the road to the manor, it was almost full dark with a biting chill to the night air. The candles in the manor windows had been lit and a lantern on the front steps illuminated Brenna and the rest of his brood. Loki thought to chide her for letting the children see such a sad end to their old friend but in truth it was better than having to field the questions as to where Lightning had gotten off to later on.  
Cait broke from the group, running to him as they made the dooryard, “Papa! Poor, poor Lightning!”  
She stopped beside him and they watched the procession pass by on their way to the stable.  
“What will happen to him now, Papa?”  
Loki looked about at Colin, Eidra, his hand atop Cait's head, “I will send him on his way to the afterlife where there is nothing to do all day save run about in the fields, eat green grass and frolic with the fillies.”  
“But Papa, who will take care of him then?” Cait whined as Eidra drew her to her skirts stroking her hair  
“Your grandfather Odin shall see to it he is well cared...for,” Eidra's voice cracked, she bit her lip tight. When Cait turned to see Loki following Fen and Eldred, she tore free, racing after him.  
“Wait! I want to go with you!”  
Loki caught her up in his arms, “My brave one, I will be out very late. We must build a pyre and send Lightning on his way. You stay here at the manor with your mother.”  
“But I want to tell Lightning good bye!” Cait cried as he set her down before Eidra and behind them he heard Astrid start to sob.  
“No. Stay with your brother and sisters and comfort them. It will be a great help to your mother.”  
Cait peered up at Eidra who nodded, “Come, we shall see if Gretten will warm us some cider and we will have shortbread before we retire to bed.”  
“Might we lay with you for a bit, Mama?”  
Eidra bent down, brushing a stray hank of hair from Cait's face, “Yes you may now let us leave your father to his task and get inside. It is freezing cold.”  
Loki leaned in, pressing a kiss to Eidra's temple, “Do not wait for me, my love.”  
Eidra gave him a sad smile as she herded Cait toward the doorstep, “You will be exhausted come the morrow and we must be in Asgard before the sun is half past its journey across the sky.”  
Colin raised his hand then, “I'll be helping them, Milady. Many hands make light work.”  
“Thank you Colin, most sincerely,” Eidra called to him as they started for the stables.  
He waved a response, trotting down the road beside Loki.  
At the doorstep, Eidra's eyes flitted to Brenna's, her throat stinging with shared tears as she saw the anguish in her first born's face. She had always been a sensitive child. Eidra locked arms with her as they stepped inside.  
“Yes, warm cider will raise our spirits I do belive.”  
“I do hope so, Mama, for our spirits are powerful low this eve,” Brenna sighed. Squeezing her arm they headed for the kitchen where Gretten and Beth stood, concern plain upon their faces.

 

As gray dawn broke the horizon, Eidra found Loki asleep on the divan in the sitting room, slumped against the arm rest, his boots still on, cloak draped across his lap. Had she not known how upset he would be, she would have let him sleep the day away in recompense for the sad chore he'd been about half the night. Instead, she shook him awake, drawing his head against her chest as he the events of the previous evening came rushing back to him and he swallowed away his tears.  
“Go upstairs and get out of those garments, I will fetch hot water for you to wash up then we will rouse the children.”  
She listened to the creak of the stairs, nodded to Gretten as he came out of his room rubbing his eyes.  
“Here let me get the fire going, Milady.”  
While Gretten fanned the coals in the fireplace into flames, she glanced out the window near the stone sink, looking toward the distant stable. Satisfied she could discern no burnt patches along the ground, she shoved such drear thoughts from her mind as the events of the day took their rightful place at the head of the line.


	56. 56

_Assignment: 64379-01  
Location: Asgard _

_Agent: Colin M. Denehy  
Date: 10/31/29_

_Happy Halloween! Or at least that's what we'd be saying if we were on Earth but here on Asgard we're getting ready for Winternights. Loki has been a bit somber these past couple days over the loss of his beloved horse, Lightning, may he rest in peace. In fact the whole household has been a bit, might I say, off. On the day of the award ceremonies at the arena in Asgard, Fen and Brenna got into a row on the way to the palace. Loki had convinced Eidra and the younger children to ride in the carriage with him so Thor would be appeased and so Brenna chose to ride Agathon, Fen, Blackberry. Helgi, Sally and Beth took the wagon pulled by Lilac while I rode Nettles, one of the draft horses, at the expense of my hips. Don't laugh until you've ridden one. They feel as wide as they are long.  
We'd not gone far when Fen turns to Brenna and asks her why she didn't try to heal Lightning. I kept back a little, though not so far that I couldn't hear them. Brenna replied to Fen's question, saying she was afraid to try, afraid she couldn't help him. Fen countered with a backhanded accusation saying at least if she made the effort she would have known whether or not she could. By my observation though I'm no vet, the poor stallion had suffered a heart attack. I'd seen the same thing happen to a mare in Newcastle, same presentation and all but at the time of the incident, Brenna hadn't moved an inch toward the horse. She wasn't afraid she couldn't heal him, which in all likelihood she wouldn't have been able to, she was afraid of the tumor, of making it worse, I could see it in her face, tell by the guilt ridden looks she cast toward her father the rest of the evening. I had suggested to her in the past that it would be better to tell the family about her condition before something like this happened but she's headstrong. So, anyway, Brenna and Fen got to a shouting match until Loki halted the carriage and put an end to the whole affair, mounting Agathon and making Brenna ride with her mother and the children.  
“And that's the way ye put them their place,” Sally was heard to mutter as we rode on.  
As joyful as the Asgardians tend to be at festival time, the seriousness of the award ceremony fell in sharp contrast. Even the weather couldn't help but offer its own thoughts on the matter as we were treated to a light flurry just before the ceremony began. Those who had lost their lives in the games were honored first off, their widows and children given recompense for their bravery. Of course what is a stipend for the life of a loved one but the majority seemed more proud of the honor that came with it than the money itself. Thus I felt ill at ease when the time came for the awards and I had to stand in the arena with the true warriors.... proud too, especially when the King set that fine sword in my hands. I stared down at the pouch of gold coins at my feet for some time, wishing I didn't have to respectfully return it to the royal coffers with their thanks. Not for want of riches mind you, but for the fact that they were coins of the realm. Asgardian minted. I decided in the end to take two for myself as keepsakes, the rest I returned later that evening at the closing feast. I'll give one of the coins to my grandad when I see him come Christmas, the other I'll ferret away to show my own grandkids....if I ever find the time to procreate.   
In the sparring category, Silas having come in first place, Loki second (bravo!) I was pleased to see Garik, the husband of our resident agent, Lily, take third, even happier to see her face beaming from the honorary front row of the stands. She'd been on Earth for the past two weeks, only just making Garik's last match, so Stark told me. He seems to think her absence had to do with the second portal which is scheduled to fire up within two weeks, more's the pity. After our little chat about the long range plans, I've decided to do a little digging during my vacation at home and that's not the only decisions I've made. I have finally accepted, in my heart....hoo boy, how dramatic does that sound?....that my ancestors came from Alfheim. I understand that I seem to be here for reasons as yet still secret and only half believed on my part. Whether it be cosmic karma or some other shite, I can't say. Am I here to save the Asgardians from a hitherto unknown threat? Maybe. Perhaps I'm here to save them from the greed of my fellow Midgardians. Who can say? Trena, however, has rattled me for the last time. She'll have to find another house to haunt.  
For now, though, I'm bent on running interference tonight. As I was making my way up stairs to change for the evening meal, there was a knock on the front door as I headed through the foyer and who should be standing there with a goofy grin on his face but Chase. Well I was gobsmacked. Brenna came rushing down the staircase three steps at a time, pulling him inside and to the sitting room. Moments later, Eidra glides into the foyer. Meanwhile I'm still standing there with my mouth hung open staring at the empty doorstep. She proceeds to tell me then, she had invited Chase to the Winternights evening meal so he could at last talk with Loki when he was in good spirits. I was of a mind to suggest she hadn't been paying very good attention the past week, Loki was anything but jolly lately, but I said nothing aloud, thinking to myself how beautifully Gretten, Beth and Vesta had set up the long table for such a grand meal and how horrible it would be were Chase and Loki to have at it over the venison roast. I smiled instead, said it was a grand idea and retreated upstairs where I now sit at my desk, hanging over my tablet.   
And there's the front door. The lord and master is home. When Eidra told me Loki had no idea Chase was going to be here, it felt like a cold rock had landed in my stomach, much the same way it feels now but I'm not going to sit here and wait for the shouting to begin. Nope. I'm heading down now to get a front row seat...._

 

Colin paused at the archway into the dining room. A few feet before him stood Loki, immobile, his hand atop Cait's head as he stared across the room at Chase who had moved to stand beside Brenna. Eidra was already hurrying toward Loki, presumably to put herself between them and for the first time since he'd arrived Colin was left to wonder whether he would need to put himself between Loki and Eidra.  
“I in..invited him to the Winternights meal,” Eidra stammered, her hands at Loki's chest, “I thought, in the spirit of hospitality, that we could come together as...,”  
“As what?” Loki growled, glaring at her, “Do not say as a family. He has no place here. Not on this night.”  
“See?” Chase turned to Brenna, his hand outstretched to Loki “I told your mother this wouldn't work.”  
“How dare you be so familiar with my wife!” Loki shouted, causing Cait to jump back against her mother's skirts, “She is the lady of the house and you will show proper respect!”  
Colin caught Eidra's eye, receiving a dark frown and a jerk of her head in return. Damnit! He'd had no intention of getting involved in their dispute. In fact he was content to sit back and watch Loki tear Chase a new arse but there it was. He was the liaison not only for the citizens of Asgard and the royal family but for the citizens of Midgard as well and this was coming close to being an incident.  
“I didn't disrespect her....sir!” Chase spat, “I didn't even address her. I was talking to your daughter.”  
“About my wife!” Loki started forward but Eidra held him at bay, Cait clinging to her waist.  
Fen had by then come up to Chase to hiss in his ear, “Can you not hold your tongue for once? You would do well to apologize.”  
“HA! If there was one aberration of which I was made to note during my time among the Midgardians it was the appalling lack of manners they displayed. He could no more apologize than he could fly to the rafters.”  
“You are wrong! You are so wrong!” Chase laughed, bowing to Eidra, “Forgive me, Milady, I didn't mean to show disrespect.”  
Eidra gave him a grim smile, “ 'Twas no trouble, Master Wells.”  
“And now...,” Chase continued, turning back to Loki, “Tell me who it was that taught you how to treat a guest in your home?”  
Wrong choice of words.  
Colin crossed the room in four steps, dodged around the end of the long table, bumping it with a loud clatter of dinnerware, shoving Chase behind him to the wall a fraction of a second before Loki reached them, “I WAS SCHOOLED WELL IN MANNERS BY MY MOTHER TO TREAT MY GUESTS WITH THE UTMOST HOSPITALITY BUT I DID NOT INVITE YOU TO MY HOME! THEREFORE, YOU ARE NOT A GUEST!”  
“The lady of the house invited me! Shouldn't that be enough?” Chase called over Colin's shoulder, “Or isn't she allowed to have a say?”  
“Chase!” Brenna cried, tears thickening her voice, “Please stop! Papa, please will you both just talk?”  
“I have nothing to say to him!” Loki pointed toward the sitting room, “...save ordering him to leave the manor if he value his safety!”  
“Did you just threaten me, sir? Colin? You heard that, right?”  
“Shut yer feckin' hole unless you want me to cart yer arse back to the encampment meself!”  
Silence.  
Brynn was heard to whisper to Helgi, “Why does he not do as Papa says?” as Colin pivoted about to Chase.  
“Go.”  
Chase leaned over to Colin, muttered, “Ei....Milady invited me here. Why can't it be enough? Why does he have to be like this?”  
“Chase, I'm ordering you to leave. The last thing we fecking need is an inter-dimensional incident. I'll talk to him later but I can't promise miracles now will you get yerself out of here?”  
Chase looked at Loki, then to Brenna before stalking out of the room. After a moment's pause, Brenna trotted after him.  
“Brenna!” Loki called to her, “Come back here immediately! Brenna!”  
When she continued after him, Loki rushed to close the distance between then, passing Cait and Helgi, Brynn who made to follow his father before Helgi caught his arm.  
“Fen go talk sense to your father,” Colin gestured the way they'd gone, hearing Loki call to Brenna louder this time.  
“BRENNA! Hel and be DAMNED!”  
Colin stopped before Eidra who was hiding her face in her hands, shoulders slumped forward.  
“I was hoping it wouldn't turn out like this, Milady.”  
“So was I,” she murmured, “Oh so was I.”  
Before Colin could make the sitting room, Loki was striding through the archway, glaring at Eidra.  
“They have gone. I am riding after them. Woman, what were you thinking inviting him here into this house?”  
As her hands came away from her face, gone was the timid, placating lady of the manor. In her place was a fierce lioness.  
“I was thinking of Brenna! Of our daughter who is twenty seasons and more and who loves Chase Wells DESPITE your wishes! In fact, the only man she loves more in this world is her father and oh how she yearns for your permission, your acceptance of her relationship with Chase..,”  
“I accepted it once before and she was nearly killed for my lack of sense!”  
“The past is what it is. You must see beyond it and let her find her own way...”  
Loki's eyes darted about the room to Fen, his face grave. To Cait and Brynn, Astrid who seemed to hold her breath waiting for him to speak.  
“But what if he breaks her heart again? I cannot bear to see her in such pain as she was before.”  
“Nor can I but she survived. She came out whole and she will again if need be. You cannot shelter her so completely that she may not live her life. Did we not learn such a lesson the hardest of ways before? Now let her go, come to the table and apologize to those who love you best, think hard upon it and after we have supped, then ride to the encampment and talk with Chase. I am sure he will incite you to further anger because he too is hurting but you will not rise to it for the love of your first born. Sheath your temper and make peace with him.”  
As if a great bucket of water had been poured over a blazing fire, so did her words seem to dampen his rage. His shoulders dropped in defeat, his features softened, Loki took her face in his hands, touching his forehead to hers, “There is no wiser woman in all the nine realms. My heart, my love, I would be lost without you to save me from myself.”  
She caressed his cheek with her thumb, “What is there to save? You have shown great care and greater love for your own flesh and blood. No less than a caring father would do. No I merely seek to redirect your passion down a better path. Now come to the table so Gretten may serve the meal.”  
The room seemed to breath a collective sigh of relief as Cait and Astrid struggled to take the same seat beside Loki when he sat down until at last he lifted Astrid into his lap, Cait stealing a moment of inattention to stick her tongue out at Astrid.  
Colin sat down at the table beside Eidra, leaning over to her, “Milady, have you ever considered becoming an ambassador? We could use a calm head like yers. We've plenty of volatile situations to diffuse.”  
“Hush,” Eidra shot him a wink as she raised her chalice.

 

Loki listened to the muted voices coming from within the tent. At the edge of his vision, the agent which had escorted him through the encampment stood watching him with his hands behind his back.  
Loki raised a fist, hesitated, and dropped it to his side, flummoxed. What was there to knock on?   
“Master Wells?” he mumbled, cleared his throat, then louder, “Master Wells?”  
He could just make out frantic whispers on the other side of the flap and then the voices stopped. He glanced at the agent, raised an eyebrow, receiving a shrug in return.  
“Come in,” came Chase's reply from the interior of the tent.  
He lifted the tent flap and stepped inside. On Chase's cot sat Brenna, staring up at him. Chase stood beside the cot, his hand on her shoulder.  
“Ah,” he felt suddenly ill at ease, as if he were intruding upon a private moment, the revelation only serving to agitate him further, “I have..”  
“Mama sent you here didn't she,” Brenna put her hand atop Chase's.  
“Yes...no! She....advised me to make amends but by my faith she did not send me here.”  
His eyes flitted to Chase then back to Brenna as Chase waved to the chair before a small writing desk, “Please have a seat.”  
He held up a hand, “I prefer to stand, if you will.”  
“Have it your way.”  
The tension grew as he searched his mind for the right words to say, the silence growing until it filled the room when at last he strode to the cot and took Brenna's hand, “I cannot hope to speak with Master Wells while you sit here in judgment. Step outside so I may talk plainly.”  
She pulled her hand from his grasp, crossed her arms, “I do not trust your intentions. What is it you would say to him that I have not the privilege of hearing?”  
Loki stood upright again, feeling the frustration rising to the surface, rippling his calm demeanor, “I simply feel you will not sit silent until I have said my piece..,”  
“And she shouldn't have to,” Chase cut in, “This is my tent. She has every right to be here and speak her mind when she feels the need. She's my guest.”  
Loki turned to Chase, the struggle to maintain his temper all but lost. He gritted his teeth, snatching at the last bit before it dissolved completely, “Forgive my impudence. I did not mean to be so rude. I realize I too am merely a guest..,”  
“But I didn't invite you here....”  
Having his own words thrown back into his face should have sent him into a rage, instead it seemed to diffuse him. He retreated from them, searching, finding the chair where he slumped into the stiff cushions.  
“Indeed you did not and if you wish me to do so, I shall leave your tent. You have every right,”  
When Chase remained silent, Loki continued, “But first, put yourself in my place, being father to a daughter you would give your life to protect then seeing her take up with a man who has broken her heart so thoroughly in the past, you despaired of ever seeing her recover. A man whose own father very nearly killed her..”  
“But it wasn't my goddamn fault!” Chase thumped his chest, “I had no idea what my....what David was going to do! I told him about Brenna because I wanted her to meet him! Because I loved her and I wanted his approval!”  
Loki held his hands in the air, cutting Chase short, “I did not come here to debate our differences. Eidra advised me to let the past remain so and this I will do but you must ken my actions, my fear that you will break her heart , that you will hurt her again. Can you promise me you will never hurt Brenna? It is all I ask.”  
“No sir, I can't.”  
Loki and Brenna looked at him in unison.  
“What say you?”  
“We're going to disagree. At some point in our relationship, we're going to argue. It's happened before, it'll happen again. Personally it'd be odd if we always agreed with one another. You can't tell me you don't argue with Brenna's mother. I've heard some epic stories,” Chase winked at Brenna, ignoring the look of death in her eyes, “and I can bet you will again. I imagine the both of you have come away licking some serious wounds but it doesn't mean you don't love her right? You hurt someone, you apologize, you make up. That's the way it is. I can't promise you I won't hurt Brenna and she can't promise she won't hurt me either. I mean have you ever had a battle of words with her? Jesus, she could cut steel with that tongue. Nothing worse than arguing with a dictionary.”  
Loki smiled in spite of himself, spied the look of relief on Brenna's face, “Many times I have conceded defeat. Her tongue is far more adept even than mine own.”  
“I had a fine teacher in you, Papa,” Brenna rose from the cot to stand beside Chase who put his arm around her shoulder.  
“ Mister Stark invited me back to Asgard, not only because he said I was one of his top junior executives but because I never stopped talking about Brenna, never stopped thinking of her. Even when I turned into a giant asshole, she never left my mind, never left my heart and I wanted, no that's not the right word, I needed a second chance with the one woman who loved me for myself, the one woman who lit up my world like a supernova from the moment we met. So, no, Sir. I can't promise you our lives will be forever perfect but I can promise you I'll try my damnedest to come pretty close.”  
Loki leaned forward in the chair, scrutinizing them, finger tapping his chin. Finally he stood, adjusted his cloak.  
“Wise words from a Midgardian, wise words. Please accept my apologies for my appalling lack of manners this evening at the manor house and allow me to extend an invitation to dine with the family three days hence. The Wild Hunt begins on the morrow and I daresay I can guarantee a fine venison roast for the table,” Loki offered his hand to Chase who, after a moment's hesitation, grasped it tightly.  
“No need for apologies, Sir. I understand completely. Thank you for the invitation to dinner.”  
Loki nodded to them both, “Now I must return to the manor. My wife is surely standing by the door with a lantern, waiting for my return. Excuse me.”  
“Papa, I'll walk you to the gate,” Brenna retrieved her cloak from the end of the cot and hurried to join him.

 

The chill air ghosted their breath before them as they walked down the rows of tents toward the gatehouse.  
“I was hoping you would come home with me.”  
“Oh Papa. I will be home later,” Brenna reassured him, “I have my dagger with me and Willow is the fastest horse I know. Who could catch me in the first place?”  
Up ahead, in the light of the gatehouse, Agathon pawed the ground, eager to be off. Willow, tied beside him nipped at his foreleg as if angry that he would be headed home before her..  
“Please do not tarry much longer. Your mother is wont to stay up until her entire brood is settled in.”  
The agent swung the gate open for them, nodding to them as they walked through and Loki started to untie Agathon's reins from the gate post.  
“So you will give your mother a good report for me?”  
Brenna crossed her arms, “I will if you be honest with me.”  
He took the reins in his hand.  
“You told Chase the truth..”  
“I did.”  
“You listened to him in return...”  
“Yes.”  
“You have made amends with him...”  
Loki enfolded her in his arms, overwhelmed with love for the woman she had become. She melted against him, returning the embrace, comforted, safe.  
“I have given him license to prove he is worthy of a princess. Will that be enough?”  
Brenna laughed, breathed in the familiar damp wool of his cloak, “It will. I love you, Papa.”  
“And I you, my treasure.”  
When he climbed into the saddle, he felt buoyed, uplifted. Perhaps there was hope for Chase Wells. There was nothing for it, however, except to wait and see.


	57. 57

“Ooo you almost had it!” Kensi cried as the apple swung back and forth before Simon's face, “Try again!”  
Simon smiled at Lelia, standing stone faced between Kensi and Andra and his smile slipped a bit. For three days, she had been begging him to attempt an escape and for three days he'd repeated over and over that they had no idea where Harmand's settlement was nor if there were other clans beyond Andra's village. He wasn't keen on being chased through a strange forest. Finally she'd called him a coward, taken the coverlet and retreated to one of the rocking chairs in front of the fireplace for the evening. The next morning she held her silence, continuing to do so throughout the day and into the morning after that so when Andra invited them to join in the festivities for Samhain, he gladly accepted, secretly overjoyed when her mouth dropped open as he followed Andra out of the cottage they'd been calling home for nearly a week.  
Kensi pointed at the apple, “Lelia why don't you give it a try?”  
The villagers gathered about the tall wooden frame from which the apples hung, chuckled at the suggestion as Lelia's scowl deepened.  
“You'll not bring her out of her sulk,” Simon laughed, “...and even if you did, she wouldn't be able to do it.”  
Lelia threw her hands down at her side and tromped into the center of the circle, elbowing him aside as he clapped his hands.  
“You've magic in you, Simon!” Andra called, “To move such a heavy stone as her!”  
Lelia glared at Andra as she addressed the crowd, “I've played these games since I was a child though the company was a fair sight more agreeable. I can latch onto this apple with me eyes shut!”  
There were boos and hisses from the clanspeople though most hooted good naturedly. A band of children ran around them with baskets on their arms on their way about the cottages which lined the footpaths of the little hamlet, their faces covered with carved masks, soot or bright paints and Simon was once again amazed at the parallels between the realms as he whispered to himself, “All Hallow's eve.”  
Again and again, Lelia bit at the apple. Every time it came in contact with her, it would bounce off her chin, her nose, roll across her cheek and she would growl in frustration. After they'd watched her for some time, Simon decided he would let her off the hook. With a finger to his lips, he circled around behind the apple, picked it up, bit into it and stood waiting until she found it again, digging into it with her own teeth. When the crowd cheered, she opened her eyes to see Simon standing there inches from her face.  
He waited, expecting her to explode in a fit of rage but instead she burst out laughing as she let the apple go.  
“Simon, such a cheat you are!”  
Simon caught her up in his arms, “All things are made easier when two people work together.”  
She buried her face in his shoulder, “ 'Tis sorry I am for me temper. I only..mmph!”  
He covered her mouth with his as shouts went up around them and Andra cried, “Ah that's the way to keep her quiet now! Let's to the lodge for a pint of ale!”  
Tall torches lined the wide path through the village, laughter was heard from every corner, smiling faces peered from warmly lit windows, dogs ran through the throng barking, wagging their tails, hoping for a crust of bread, scrap of meat to fall from the hands of revelers. The enticing aroma of food being prepared for the night's feast hung thick in the cool air of dusk.  
As they walked toward the clan lodge, he found himself pondering how exactly he would set up his house to put it on the market, what he would bring here to Alfheim, what modern conveniences he would have to give up when all at once his thoughts were interrupted by a call from the woods surrounding them throwing all into silence. It seemed as if the whole village had been turned off as even the children stopped their play to look about. Andra cupped her hands to her mouth and echoed the call drawing one of her warriors, an overlarge boy called Tack, from the copse of trees between two small cottages to their right.  
“Andra. A small band approaches from the north.”  
“Have you seen them with you own eyes?” Andra took him by the sleeve but he shook his head.   
“We received word from the trader, Balf. He claims to have spied them on his way through the village of Roon. They should be here on the morrow. They are camped near the Battas river,” Tack stared about at the clanspeople while Andra stood there, hands on her ample hips until finally she cried, “Well?!”  
Tack jumped back, rubbed his neck, “Well what?”  
“Great Freyr! Is Harmand among them?”  
Tack smiled broadly, exposing a wide gap where his front teeth should have been, “Oh, oh yes, yes...or at least 'twas told to me by Balf.”  
“His word is as good as any,” Andra chuckled giving Simon a wink, “It would seem Harmand is indeed eager to rescue you from the cruelty of Clan Fiodoir.”  
“On..on the contrary. We've been well cared for, Milady,” Simon hurried to correct her.  
“And so you have,” Andra clapped him on the back, making him stumble forward a bit, “Though I think you'll have a time convincing your mate o' that fact,” Andra nodded to Lelia, receiving a dark scowl in exchange for her levity, “ And so now we wait. If Harmand is grown wiser than I recall, you should be on your way by the morrow midday.”  
Lelia hooked her arm into Simon's and he patted her hand. By this time the next evening, they would, with a large dose of luck, be in Harmand's village.

 

The loud clamor of the village bell brought Simon's head up off the pillow. The light coming in through the cottage windows looked gray and drear. Beside him, Lelia lay stretched out, snoring softly. He shook her, smiling as she snorted awake, pushing herself to her elbows..  
“Odin's beard! 'Tis morning is it?”  
The bell rung again, frantic in its tone and they stared at each other but for a moment before they both scrambled out of the bed to find their boots.  
When at last they reached the door of the cottage, throwing it wide to the surprise of the sentries standing guard, they saw, at the far end of the main village thoroughfare some distant, a group of men dropping from their horses and for a moment Simon wondered if the agents hadn't found him after all, then he spied Andra rushing from her cottage, wrapping a crimson velvet robe around her shoulders as one of the men stepped away from the group, striding forward.  
“It took you long enough to come for your people!” Andra shouted, “We were of a mind to ask them to join our clan!  
“By the gods no self respecting member of the clan Melos would sully their reputation in such a way!”   
At Harmand's response, Simon rushed from the cottage followed close behind by Lelia and the sentries.  
Andra, her face scarlet, withdrew her sword, brandishing it in the air, “Why you old troll! You dare cast dispersions on Clan Fiodoir? I should run you through!”  
Harmand had done likewise in the meantime, drawing his own short sword though he kept it at bay, “Ruddy tailors the lot of you! Why you'd have them sewing ladies underthings, sitting about gossiping, clucking like a brood of hens!”  
“And you'd have them hard at the forge, banging away with a hammer, growing old before their time with the soot and the fires of Hel all 'round them!”  
While Andra and Harmand growled at one another, Simon held his breath, Lelia gripping his hand tight until Harmand laughed out loud, clasping Andra's forearm with a hearty clap.  
“You great sow! An' it be late, a good Samhain to you!”  
“And yourself,” Andra drew him into a hearty embrace, “Let us repair to the lodge for a parlay and a pint.”  
Simon stood there stunned. Harmand hadn't even acknowledged him, hadn't asked after his health, checked his accommodations. He stared at their backs as they headed, arm in arm toward the great lodge which dominated the village skyline. The way Andra had talked about Harmand, Simon expected her to run him through, now they were talking and laughing like long lost friends.  
He was about to turn around, tromp back to the cottage, gather his things and begin the long hike back to Asgard when Harmand stopped to glance over his shoulder.  
“Simon. Why are ya standing there with your mouth open like a fish? Come on now, we've bartering to do!”  
Lelia had to pull him forward, unrooting his feet from the ground as they started off at a trot behind the two laughing clan leaders.

 

“Give back the southern fields? You're daft!” Harmand roared, slamming his tankard of ale down on the heavy oak table at which they all sat, “You took them from us when you settled here and we reclaimed them. I'll not barter land for my kin. You've no right to hold them!”  
Andra leaned over the table, fist curled around the handle of her own mug, “They were trespassing on our lands and so we have every right to keep them here by clan law!”  
Harmand sat back stroking his beard, his mouth working furiously as Andra continued.  
“You've vast holdings, I've seen them. I've ridden your borders looking for better grazing for our livestock. Can you tell me you can't spare the least half rod of grassland?”  
“Begging yer pardon,” Lelia raised her hand, the interruption going unnoticed until she repeated again, “BEGGING YER PARDON!”  
“Andra looked to her, Harmand's eyes sliding in her direction as they waited.  
Simon closed his eyes, fighting the urge to clamp his hand over her mouth before she talked their way in to spending the rest of their lives as seamstresses.  
“I'm after thinking there might be a simple solution staring ye bold in the face....I,”  
“Lass,” Harmand chuckled, “You've hardly the head for such negotiations...”  
“Me Da is a farmer, and his father before him and his father before him. I know about livestock! Now ye both need fresh grassland for yer cows and sheep,” Lelia was standing now, pointing at Andra, then she turned to Harmand, “Could ye not see yer way clear to let her livestock join yers and share in the grazing, then the following season ye allow Harmand's animals to share the graze on yer land and so on?”  
Harmand glanced at Andra, “Perhaps. There would have to be provisions in place of course.”  
“Provisions which would likely err in your favor I've no doubt.” Andra frowned, stared into her tankard, “I would have to hear terms afore I agree.”  
“Out of the question,” Harmand sat forward in his chair, “We must return home as soon as we can. We need to hunt, to set by meat for the winter. I can't very well stay here and draw up terms. It could take a fortnight.”  
Andra crossed her arms over her ample bosom, “And how do I know you simply won't away with your visitors and claim this talk never happened?”  
“If you will,” Simon nodded to Andra, “I can assure you your conditions will be met. As I am the cause of all this trouble and our presence on your land is the sole reason Harmand was compelled to make this trip, I give you my word I will see to it Harmand does his duty by you. He will draw up terms as promised.”  
“Indeed,” Harmand grunted, draining his tankard, “It will be done.”  
When Andra doubled over with laughter, however, Simon raised an eyebrow, regarding her curiously.  
“Of what good is the word of an off worlder whether or not he be kin? I daresay you think quite highly of yourself....”  
With a smirk, Harmand waved Andra across the table. At first she resisted until he reached over, yanking her forward by the hem of her cloak to whisper in her ear.  
“Great Freyr! So you say?  
Harmand nodded smugly, “I do that.”  
Andra stared at Simon, looked back to Harmand, “How can you be sure?”  
Harmand steepled his hands across his chest, “I've seen it with my own eyes.”  
“Well you could've started off with that,” Andra mumbled as she sat back in her seat, rubbing her lips with her fingers and smiling at Simon, “Your word is good enough for me, off....Simon Foster. You are free to gather your things and follow Harmand back to his village.”  
“I'm sorry, did I miss something?” Simon looked at Lelia who shrugged.  
Harmand set his tankard down on the table and stood, “Nothing a'tall. Go on with you, fetch your things so we might be off. We've a way to go.”  
Lelia pulled on Simon's arm, raising him from his seat, “Ye heard him. Come on!”  
Still befuddled, Simon bowed to Andra then to Harmand, as Lelia guided him from the lodge, nearly at a run by the time they reached the cottage.  
As she stuffed their belongings into their packs, Simon glanced out the window to see Harmand and Andra at the door of the lodge, their heads together as they talked.  
_“You could've started off with that”_   
What did Andra mean? What had Harmand said that changed her mind, making her release them with no further negotiations when days before she'd been ready to hold them in the village by force.  
“What do you think Harmand said to Andra,” he mused.  
“Sure and I've not the slightest idea. See to yer packing so we may put our backsides to this place for good,” Lelia huffed, leaning over her pack to secure it closed.

 

At last they were gathered together at the northernmost point of the village, Simon was further surprised. Andra seemed a changed woman, charging Harmand to take as long as he needed to draw up terms along with repeated invitations for Simon to return for a visit.  
They said their farewells and mounted their horses, leaving the village of clan Fiodoir behind as they continued north.  
After they'd traveled some distance, curiosity won out over trepidation. Simon brought his horse even with Harmand's dappled bay.  
“Pardon me. I don't mean to pry but I can't help noticing how swiftly Andra changed her tack with a few words from you. Would you mind telling me w..what you said to her?”  
Harmand's green eyes crinkled slightly, his beard moving as he broke into a smile, “Not at all, I told the old she-bear who you were.”  
Simon tilted his head, “So did I when we were taken. I don't see what difference it made coming from you.”  
Harmand laughed, “Ah but did you tell her what you were?”  
“A scientist? Hardly. She wouldn't have understood,” He looked over his shoulder at Lelia, shrugged his shoulders.  
“No. Did you tell her what you were in this realm?”  
At Simon's blank stare, Harmand twisted in the saddle, “The gods wept! I told her you were the keeper of the Rune Laguz!”  
Simon thought of the ship's prism wrapped securely, nestled among his clothes, “And that fact changed her whole tune? Look I still don't know what I'm doing or why I'm even doing it. I've not a clue what made me set off to find you in the first place,” behind him, Lelia clucked her tongue but he ignored it.  
“Guidance, perhaps?”  
“Excuse me?” Simon looked at Harmand.  
“You know nothing about the place your ancestors came from, nothing of their heritage, your heritage. You were finally compelled you to find the answers you seek,” Harmand paused, “but the fact remains, you can't rightly ignore the pull of destiny.”  
Simon rolled his eyes, jerking a thumb back at Lelia, “Please, I've been listening to that old chestnut the entire trip.”  
“The lass is wise. The runes are coming together for some purpose as yet unknown and we are, all of us, being drawn in by some invisible thread from the tapestry of history.”  
“Mmm, deep, very deep. Thanks for that. If you'll excuse me...,” Simon frowned, pulled on the reins, slowing to return to Lelia's side as Harmand shook his head.   
“You'll see, lad, you will see.”


	58. 58

Loud snoring echoed through the dim damp corridor making Lorioi smile as he continued down the rough hewn stone steps to the open door below. He paused just outside the doorway in the shadows cast by the torches in the room beyond, angling himself until he could see Skiver, his chair tilted back against the wall, hands laced over his great stomach, chin to his chest. Lorioi waited while the head jailer snorted, readjusted his position and fell again to snoring.  
Quick as lightning, Lorioi darted past Skiver, past the tall stand where visitors were made to sign their names, down the row of cells, counting to himself until he reached twenty and turned to his right, gripping the bars of the cell before him.  
On the cot against the far wall lay a prisoner, asleep, huddled beneath a heavy coarse coverlet. On a small stand at the foot of the cot sat a candle burned nearly to the end in its dish and he wished he'd thought to bring her another one.  
“Mama!” he whispered as quietly as he could, “Mama wake up.”

Sif stirred, the voice cutting into her dreams, her eyes fluttering open, focusing on the stone ceiling high above her head.  
“Mama, are you awake?”  
Her heart beat a staccato rhythm in her chest as she sat up and threw the coverlet aside, rushing on unsteady legs to the cell door, dropping to the cold flagstones, reaching between the cold iron bars to cup Lorioi's face in her hands.  
“My love. You should not be down here. They will punish you again. It breaks my heart.”  
“I do not care,” Lorioi whispered, his dark eyes flashing, “The King busies himself with Queen Jane. I know he only suffers me to remain a prince to save face.”  
Sif smiled. Not yet seven seasons and already wise beyond his age.  
“Tell me, my brave man. How does Jane fare? Has she grown fat with child?”  
Lorioi nodded eagerly, “Yes, oh yes. She stays in her chambers most days unless royal duties summon her. She sits struggling with her sewing, talking with visitors. Aunt Eidra comes with the cousins. Sometimes, the Midgardian, Lily, but mostly she is alone with her maidservants and, Mama, I heard her speak of returning to Midgard though I know not why. Before I could hear more, one of the royal guards shuttled me away from the bedchamber door.”  
Sif stroked Lorioi's dark blond hair, “You must be careful. Do not let them see your hatred. Keep it close to you, hidden until time and tide are in your favor.”  
“Yes, Mama,” he pressed her hand to his cheek, “When I am old enough, I will ask the King to release you and we will leave the palace far behind.”  
Sif shook her head as unshed tears stung her throat, “No, no , my bear cub. The crown may yet be yours if what you say is true. The Queen is ill at ease in this realm and rightly so. I pray to the Gods she will return to Midgard and there remain. What choice will the King have, save to give the crown to you?”  
Lorioi's face crumpled into a scowl, “It would matter not where she chose to make her home. Her child will rule Asgard one day.”  
Sif took him by the shoulders then, drawing him as close as she could, staring into his eyes, “When I am freed of this Hel, there will be no heir save you, my heart.”  
A snort, followed by a groan and a loud scraping sound startled them as they stared up the row of cells.  
“Skiver wakens, you must away back to your bedchamber ere he finds you here!”  
She tried to push him from her but he clung to her through the bars, “Mama! I want to stay here with you!”  
Another scrape echoed off the stone walls. All at once, Sif reached out, pinching Lorioi on the tender flesh beneath his bicep.  
“Ow!” he whined, clapping a hand to the quickly blooming bruise.  
“Listen to me. If they find you here again, they may send me far away from the palace where you would not be able to see me for a very long time. If we are ever to be together, you must go, do you ken?”  
A tear escaped to roll down the slope of his nose but he nodded, grabbed Sif's hand, covering it with kisses before he stood, rushing down the long corridor past the cells to stop at the entrance to the visitor's room.  
Across the way, the door leading up to the palace proper stood, still open. To his right, Skiver, his back to the room, had risen from his chair and was emptying his bladder into a pail while he hummed an off tune ditty. Lorioi slipped off his boots to hold in his hand and taking a deep breath, he darted behind the portly jailer just as he finished tying his breeches. From the safety of the stairway, he watched Skiver retrieve the key ring from a peg beneath the desk and start down the row of cells. Lorioi bit his thumb at the retreating jailer and, giggling, took the steps up from the dungeon three at a time.

Sif retreated to her cot to lay down, gazing at the spot on the other side of the cell door where Lorioi had been moments before. She brought her hands to her nose, breathing in his scent, sweeter than the finest perfumes, the brightest flowers, felt the silken strands of hair as if they were still beneath her fingers, his high child's voice resounding in her head. She would free herself from this prison, somehow, she would find a way out, she would see Lorioi on the throne one day and she would be the one to put him there.

 

Eris shivered as a gust of cold air rattled the windowpane, little tendrils seeping through the sill to caress the back of her neck, giving her gooseflesh along her arms. She pulled her robe higher on her shoulders, shaking her head at Neve who sat at the foot of her bed seemingly unaffected.  
“You're not the least bit cold?”  
Neve flashed her a mouthful of sharp white teeth, “Not so much, no. Maybe I get used to it, maybe is because of what I am.”  
Neve handed Eris the bowl before her, “Here, I am near done.”  
Eris studied the contents, her needle ready in one hand as she looked over the multitude of beads. Rounds of misshapen glass, carved wood cubes, painted clay flowers, ivory discs and countless other styles played hide and seek in the depths as she fished about for one of the red clay flowers.  
“I can imagine what my friends back home would say if they could see me playing arts and crafts,” Eris chuckled. She'd been about to add “with the likes of you” but she didn't think Neve would understand, she might even feel hurt so Eris kept her observation to herself.  
Neve was busy tying a knot in the ends of the necklace she'd strung, her tongue pressed against her top lip. She looked up at Eris.  
“Will you go home someday?”  
Eris stuck the needle through the center of the clay flower, “I don't know. I doubt it. If I can make a better life here in Asgard, I'll stay. If I can't make it, I guess I'll look for greener pastures.”  
“Greener pastures?” Neve laughed, holding up her finished necklace, “What means greener pastures?”  
Eris slid a red glass bead onto her needle, “Oh it's an old saying. It means I'd try to find a better place.”  
Eris pawed through the bowl, searching for another red glass bead, fished it out and looked up to find Neve's crystal blue eyes fixed on her.  
“If you leaves, take me with you. I can serves, protect, cook!” Neve rose to her knees, her hands clasped together, “Please, please!”  
Eris sat there picturing her in a french maid's dress and had to bite her tongue hard to keep from laughing out loud, the only thing to sober her was picturing Neve instead in a decent gown as one of her ladies in waiting. Her loyalty was unquestionable. Eris couldn't bear the thought of leaving her here alone under Willa's rule.  
“Sure I'll take you. When I've installed myself in the palace as the prince's mistress, I'll bring you with me as my personal servant.”   
All at once, Neve was up, her arms around Eris's neck, covering her face with kisses. Eris clutched the bead bowl, trying to keep it from upending as she gave Neve a one armed hug.  
“Hey,” Eris giggled, “First I have to find a way to seduce the prince. We may be old women before we see the inside of that palace.”  
Neve sat back, shook her head, “We will find a way to make the dark prince notice you though you hardly need the help.”  
The bedchamber door at Eris's back swung open and Perth's giant frame filled the doorway, “ 'Ere now! The two of ya need to be up at dawn. It's your turn to give the tavern a proper scrub down before the patrons start pouring in. Put out that lantern and get y'selves ta bed. You're wasting oil you are!”  
“Okay, alright,” Eris waved at him, “We're just finishing up.”  
“See that ya do it right quick,” Perth grunted as he shut the door. They listened to his heavy footsteps creak the floorboards as he continued along the hallway.  
“Let's get the arts and crafts picked up so we can get some sleep,” Eris stood from the bed, picked up the bowl and set it on the little table she used as a nightstand.  
“Can I stays here with you?” Neve bounced up and down on the bed.  
“Sure, just stop, you're gonna loosen the ropes again and it's a bitch to tighten them,”  
Eris turned down the lantern until the flame winked out and felt her way to the bed. Neve had already burrowed beneath the coverlets and pulled Eris close as she settled into the straw mattress.  
“Neve, I gotta breath, geez,” Eris gasped as Neve relaxed her grip with a contented sigh.  
“Is warmer with us together.”  
Eris glanced over at her, “You said the cold didn't bother you.”  
“I said the cold bothers me not much and I likes being here with you.”  
Eris felt Neve take her hand and she smiled, “I like you here with me too. Now go to sleep.”  
“Nights,”  
“Night, Neve.”

 

Colin stretched, stifling a yawn as he gazed about Longhouse two. Loki, standing beside him, nodded.  
“ 'Tis early and then some is it not?”  
“I didn't sleep well last night.”  
Loki looked at him, “Concerned?”  
Colin scratched his head, mollified at Loki's astute assessment, “Aye, a bit. Aren't you?”  
Loki shrugged, “The other portal works, does it not? Why should this one be any different?”  
“Ah excuse me a moment. I want to check in with Mister Stark,” Colin patted Loki on the shoulder before heading through the crowd of technicians and agents toward Stark who was hovering around the bank of monitors at the base of Portal two,  
“How goes it?” Colin leaned over beside Tony as he drew his fingers across one of the screen, lifting into the air before them a glowing green holographic bar chart.  
“The power levels are holding. I think we need a more powerful solar bank because the levels drop too low for my taste when the portal fires up, makes me a bit concerned about containment and the integrity of the doorway but Jarvis says we have enough backup in the reserve cells.”  
“Is Jarvis usually right?”  
Tony fixed him with a disdainful stare, “Always.”  
“Who's the guinea pig this time?”Colin looked up at the platform.  
Tony's face split into a huge grin, “Not telling you. It's a surprise.”  
“Tony, you're enjoying this way too much.”  
Colin nodded to Pepper who'd appeared at their side, then he glanced over his shoulder at Loki who was standing, watching, his arms crossed, “It's not going to be too much of a shock is it? Because I'd like to be informed if I've the need to run interference.”  
“We'll see,” Tony put a hand on one of the technicians shoulders, “Keep an eye on the primary cell banks. If they look like they're getting spent, switch to the secondary banks. Don't wait until the last second, got me?”  
“Yes sir,” the technicians eyes never left the screens in front of him though he shifted in his chair like a cat ready to pounce.  
“Okay, let's join Destructo. You know what kind of punch this thing packs,” Tony herded them away from the portal to stand beside Loki who regarded him with no small measure of amusement.  
“I do believe you've grayed considerably since your arrival here in Asgard.”  
Tony gave Loki a wry grin, “This place will do it to you won't it? Just don't try to keep up with me.”  
Colin hid a smile as Loki's hand stray absently to his temple. Tony thrust a hand in the air and twirled it around, “Okay, people lets put our game faces on. Rev 'er up.”  
The cubes which had been sitting atop the platform began to vibrate as the now familiar electric hum filled the interior of the longhouse. The sound of a door shutting behind them made Colin turn around just in time to see Brenna tiptoeing up to him, mouthing “sorry” as she tapped her father on the shoulder.  
“You are late,” Loki grumbled though he kept his gaze on the portal.  
“Chase just went on duty,” Brenna squeezed in between Loki and Colin, “I ran all the way from the field tent.”  
Loki held a finger to his lips, “We need not know from whence you came.”  
Brenna clucked her tongue though she fell silent when the cubes snapped into the air hovering in a circle above the portal base. Tony rushed forward, grabbed the hologram still hovering above the bank of monitors and brought it back to where they were standing.  
“Power levels look good. Open the door boys.”  
A static hum resonated through the air. Looking to his right, Colin saw ripples unsettle the water in a half full bottle sitting beside one of the techs. The far wall of the longhouse framed by the cubes started to shimmer, then to fade, replaced by a similar lab setting on the opposite side.  
“I wish Simon was here,” Tony muttered as the portal solidified and he started up the ramp at a trot, his hand out.  
Another hand emerged from the portal to grip Tony's and its owner stepped through, gazing about the longhouse.  
“The soldier,”   
Colin glanced at Loki who wore a dark scowl, “Excuse me?”  
“My brother should have been here for this. They could reminisce about old battles.”  
Brenna tugged at Loki's sleeve, “Papa, be polite.”  
Tony had his arm around the man's shoulders while they descended the ramp, guiding him toward the group and Colin couldn't help but notice the man's face darken as his eyes fell on Loki.  
“I know he really needs no introduction but I might as well be polite. This is Captain Steve Rogers. Steve, you remember Destructo.”  
Loki glared at Tony before nodding to Steve who didn't return the gesture, merely kept staring at him.  
“And this beauty here is his eldest daughter, Brenna..,”  
Steve's gaze flitted to Brenna, surprise leaping to his face as he held out a hand to her, “I'm sorry. I wasn't told about....,” he faltered until Tony poked him in the arm.  
“Children....yeah and you weren't told about his stint as a gentleman farmer either. You really should read your files. And this is Agent Denehy from the European division.”  
Colin shook Steve's hand, “Colin, please. Delighted to meet you.”  
Steve looked at Loki again, then at Brenna before turning to Tony, “Lets get the debriefing over with so I can return to the lab with my report...” he nodded to Brenna, “It was nice to meet you.”  
As Tony and Steve headed back to the monitor banks, Brenna tilted her head, “He seems smaller in person.”  
Loki stared at her, “You know who he is?”  
“Oh Papa,” Brenna laughed, “Everyone knows Captain America.”  
Loki stared down his nose at the two men, “Indeed. Colin I will see you at the manor this evening. I am off to the palace to inform my brother of the portal's success.”  
Without bidding Tony farewell, Loki strode to the longhouse door, slamming it shut behind him.  
“He's not a big fan of the Captain, I gather.”  
“Not after New York,” Brenna added.  
“Mmmm.”  
After an awkward silence, Brenna looked over her shoulder at the longhouse door, “I have seen what I came for. I am going to ride for home.”  
“Take care,” Colin called to her as she headed for the door her response, a shout from across the room, “Of course!”   
“Back to work then,” he sighed, drew his tablet from the satchel draped over his shoulder and headed to the table where Tony and Steve now stood talking together.

 

Flurries were dancing in the air by the time Loki started for the manor near sundown. He'd delivered his message about the portal, steeling himself then as Thor began his daily lament over Jane's impending visit to Midgard.  
“She will return to Midgard and she will decide to remain there. I am sure of it.”  
Loki regarded Thor, sitting on the throne, his head in his hand, “She is with child, your child, the heir to the kingdom of Asgard. She will most assuredly return to your side, brother. Do not be so foolish.”  
But he would not be put off, lamenting her departure until Loki's patience wore thin enough to crack and he chided him for being so weak, reminding him he was a King of the Realm which seemed to shore him up long enough for Loki to excuse himself. He needed to work upon the correspondence he'd been procrastinating about for nearly a fortnight.  
Now, the day's chores behind him, he rode at a canter through the city streets, nursing a headache, the encounter with Captain Rogers weighing on his mind, bringing to the forefront the haze of memories that were Midgard. Rogers had looked surprised to see Brenna or rather surprised to see he had children. Had no one informed the ancient soldier of what had happened on Asgard while he was keeping the earth safe? More likely he had simply been unwilling to believe that anyone would care to mate with a monster.  
He returned a nod to a group of men who had bowed as he passed. The streets were starting to darken, the torches, lamps being lit, candles glowed upon windowsills and he was reminded of a street he'd walked down in Stuttgart, bent on bringing glory to his benefactors....his captors.  
A young girl had stepped out of a brightly lit doorway to pick up a newspaper on her doorstep.   
“Guten Abend,” she'd called to him as he passed. He'd pivoted about to glare at the girl who had the great misfortune to have a mane of rich chestnut hair and bright blue eyes. In his mind all he could see was Eidra and the great unfairness that this woman should be standing here while his heart lay dead on a bier in Alfheim. He'd swung the blade of the scepter across her throat, nearly decapitating her, leaving her body face down on the steps, her blood soaking through the newspaper, a picture of Tony Stark on the front page.  
He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, desperate to erase the scene from his memory. A spate of raucous laughter brought his head up and he slowed to search for the source of the sound. The men who had nodded to him were walking into a tavern. He looked at the sign hanging above the doorway and tapped his forehead. It was owned by a giant of a man, what was his name, what was his...  
“Perth! Ye old boar!” came a shout through the open doorway and he slapped a palm to his forehead, cursing his forgetfulness. Dropping to the ground, he lead Agathon by the reins toward the Oak and Thistle and peered through one the windows of the packed tavern.A great din issued from within, patrons hollering, laughing, drinking.   
Perhaps a tankard would serve to drive the dark humor from him. He wrapped Agathon's rein's about the stanchions outside the doorway, patting his neck as the stallion yanked at the post, ears flattened as he regarded the other unfamiliar horses nearby.  
“I will be brief, my friend,” he murmured as he made for the doorway, “Then we will be off for home.”

 

“Ya should be getting dressed soon, lass,” Perth jabbed at Eris with a sausage of a finger, “We've a good crowd. You'll be earning extra I'll wager.”  
“We can hope,” Eris set a couple full tankards on the heavy wooden tray before her, “I'll change after I get these ales delivered.”  
But Perth had stopped listening. He was staring open mouthed across the room at the front door. She looked up at him, following his gaze as she turned. What she saw made her legs give way quite suddenly and she gripped the heavy carved bartop.  
“Prince Loki,” Perth set down the tankard he'd been filling, rushing around the end of the bar, his hand extended before him, “Your Highness. Welcome to the Oak and Thistle, finest tavern in the city of Asgard. It's been an age since ya graced our fair establishment!”  
“I was on my way home and felt the need of an ale to warm me for the journey,” Loki studied the tavern, the heavy oak tables, ornate lanterns hanging from the walls, casting dappled patterns of candlelight about the room, the whitewashed walls, less white than they had started out, stained as they were from countless seasons of pipe smoke and dirt, “I see nothing has changed.”  
“Same fine service, ya can be sure,” Perth gestured to a table Neve was clearing away, “Come sit here. Neve fetch his Highness a tankard of our finest ale.”  
Neve froze, staring bold faced at the Prince until he frowned slightly, “Perth, your servant seems not to have heard you.”  
Perth turned to Neve and roared, “Neve! Ale! Now!”  
Perth's bark unseated Neve's feet as she stumbled back from the table with a bow, “Ale fors your Highness, a course. Forgives me.”  
Eris stared at the bartop, her heart pounding. Damn, damn! She was due to dance and here was her chance to talk with him, capture his attention, perhaps a little more.. all at once, her eyes lit up. She would capture his attention in the best way she knew how. She would dance for him tonight.   
“Eris!” Neve whispered loudly in her ear, “Eris do you sees who has come to the Oak and Thistle? Perhaps he looks for you?”  
Eris snorted at the thought as Neve waved to Willa, “A tankard of the best ale fors his Highness!”  
“His Highness indeed,” Willa sneered, tipping a pewter tankard against the spigot of a barrel on one of the shelves behind the bar, “Adviser to the King. 'Tis long been rumored he is not even of royal blood.”  
“He is a prince, wench!” Neve hissed, “Rumors be rumors. You could lose your head fors such treason?”  
“None have heard my words save you and who would they believe? The testament of a filthy drow and a trained pet? See to your chore.”Willa laughed, sliding the tankard across the bar top to Neve.  
Neve hissed at her again then turned to Eris, “Brings him the tankard, Eris. Make eyes at him!”  
Neve hauled the wooden tray from her reach, replacing it with the tankard of ale and for a moment, she thought her legs were going to give way again but she steeled herself, took a deep breath and started for the table where Perth was bending Loki's ear.  
As she neared, she practiced her introduction to herself, _“Your Highness, you probably don't remember me but I saw you at Mabon...”_ it was Mabon wasn't it? All those festivals and holidays had taken some learning, _“...and I would like to introduce myself...my name is...”_  
Eris stopped, ignoring the stares of the men at the tables around her. If she said Eris there was a distinct possibility he would know who she was. He'd been there the day she came through the portal. Surely he'd heard her name spoken quite a few times and Eris wasn't a common name in Asgard. Willa and Neve, Bard, Fish, they'd all admitted her name was as foreign to them as her accent but someone like Loki would certainly recognize it, being well acquainted with Colin and Mister Stark. She would have to sound like an Asgardian, she would have to adopt another name, at least for tonight. The thought almost made her return to the bar but the only one left to serve the Prince was Willa.  
Oh hell no.  
She started walking again, praying Perth would go along with her.  
With trembling hands, she set the tankard before Loki, saw recognition dawn on his face and she curtsied, “Your Highness, I wish to introduce myself, my name is Arianna.”  
“Arianna?....” Perth mumbled.  
“Yes sir?” she looked at Perth, her eyes wide as they slid to Loki. Perth didn't need to know what she was about, he just had to go along.  
“Arianna?” he repeated, his head tilted to stare at her.  
“What do you wish?” She batted her eyelashes at him, innocent as a newborn calf.  
“You....”   
Loki's voice brought her around, “Yes, your Highness?”  
“You were at Mabon, receiving the tribute of wine for the Hammer and Serpent was it?”  
“Your Highness has an excellent memory.”  
Eris was surprised to see him chuckle, his hands templed before his mouth, “Ah I am unlikely to forget such a meeting.”  
“I am honored,” Eris curtsied again, willing herself to remain calm as she lifted her gaze to him, entranced by his amused smile, the laugh lines surrounding his intense blue green eyes.  
“Are you indeed?”  
She caught Perth scratching his head out of the corner of one eye and she had to bite her lip to hold in a spate of laughter.  
“Tell me, from where do you hail?”  
Eris looked to the floor, a trick she'd learned years ago to prevent the clientele from reading her expression, catching her in a lie.  
“Why from Asgard, your Highness.”  
His voice lowered, his tone flat, “You were not born here.”  
At once, adrenaline rushed through her body, coloring her cheeks, spurring her heart to thunder. It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Could he detect her false accent? She was used to thinking quick, being fast on her feet, sharp with her wit but here was the man she'd sworn to pursue the moment she stepped into Asgard. Beads of sweat began to form on her upper lip.  
“I was not. I was born in Alfheim.”  
“So was my wife...,”  
_Jesus H. Christ!_  
She forced herself to look at him.  
“Ah, my parents were nomads of sorts. They traveled about the realms selling their wares so though I was born in Alfheim, I seldom stayed in one place for very long.”  
She waited, pondering the tragic irony in the truth of her statement. She had never stayed in one place very long, shuttled from foster home to foster home. The one time she'd bothered to look up the parents who'd abandoned her, she could find no address, no phone number, nothing. She relaxed a bit as Loki took a long swallow of his ale.  
“Enough with the pleasantries, you've a performance now off ya go,” Perth put his hand at her back, guiding her away from the table, calling to Loki, “Please stay, your Highness. She's made the Oak and Thistle a place to be with her dances.”  
When they were well away, Perth growled in her ear, “Arianna? What the Hel are ya on about? The men are here ta see Eris. Thems that don't know ya are gonna think I've fobbed off a fake if I announce ya as Arianna.”  
Eris sidled from his hand, “I'll still dance just as good. Trust me. Just do this one thing for me and I'll give you my tips, please!”  
“Are ya wanted by the crown for something? Is that it?”  
Eris shook her head as she raced for the kitchen doorway, “No. Neve come help me dress! Perth I'll tell you later.”  
She bounded up the stairs by twos, praying Perth would forget to ask. She was running out of lies for this little stunt.

The shouts, hoots, whistles all faded as she entered the room, gliding across the floor, around the tables, dodging hands reaching for her behind, tugs at her scarves as men tried to pull her into their laps. A twirl about and she caught a glimpse of faces pressed against the windows from outside. She was drawing large crowds nowadays, she would likely garner some fine tips this evening but she could care less. The only reward she needed tonight, she was going to give herself. She sent the Prince a smoldering look, thrilled he was watching her, hands wrapped around his tankard of ale. Perth's fiddle sang a tune of passion, lust, seduction while she danced closer and closer to him, her silk scarf dress swirling about to reveal the curve of her breasts, the soft skin of a thigh. There was a moment's hesitation as she approached his table for the climax of her performance, staring into his eyes. She found him impossible to read and it disconcerted her. Was it against protocol to touch the person of a royal? The last thing she wanted was to find her head on the chopping block the next morning? She took a deep breath, threw one leg over his legs to straddle his lap, grinding herself against him as the music reached a feverish pitch. Still nothing, no reaction. Taking a fingertip, she drew it down the front of his tunic, further, further still, feeling his rib cage give way to tender flesh, tight abs, the dip of his belly button and all at once her wrist was caught in a vise like grip. She looked down at him, dismayed to see his cold eyes returning her gaze, his assessment of her performance delivered in the same low tone with which he'd disputed her place of birth.  
“You presume far too much.”  
What little nerve she had left vanished as the tavern erupted, men standing up, clapping, shouting for more, the sound of coins being emptied from pouches.  
Eris slid from Loki's lap, feeling coins being pressed into her palms, one dropped down the front of her dress to fall with a merry clink to the floorboards. Perth was at her side by now, smiling, an arm about her shoulder.  
“Isn't she a delight? There'll be another performance the evening hence!”  
Perth directed her away from Loki with a hard look as he clapped his hands together and bowed, “Your Highness. I hope ya enjoyed our little dance.”  
From across the room, she watched Perth speak at length with Loki who finally stood, slipping through the tavern door with a swirl of his green cloak.  
“You touched him,” Neve squealed, “Oh Eris, what was he likes?”  
Eris stood there staring at her hands. She could still feel the press of his fingers around her wrist, the hard muscles of his thighs, the scent of leather mingled with the tang of dark ale upon his breath....and those eyes which sliced through her soul like a fresh razor blade.  
“He was beautiful.”  
Eris drifted into the kitchen hearing his words over and over, _“You presume far too much,”_  
Presume far too much? Far from putting her off, his reaction had strengthened her resolve. She smiled to herself as she trotted up the stairs to change. There wasn't a man she'd set her sights on since she was fourteen that she hadn't been able to crack like a walnut, she just had to find the right amount of pressure. .


	59. 59

As Loki reached the top of the stairs, he spied faint light coming from beneath the twins bedchamber door. He eased it open to find Eidra sitting on Brynn's bed rubbing his back. From across the room, he could hear the rattling wheeze of each breath. Eidra glanced over her shoulder to whisper, “I did not hear you return home.”  
“ 'Tis hardly surprising,” he kissed the top of her head and bent down to set his hand upon Brynn's back. The boy shifted position, turning his head toward the lantern light, two fingers shoved into his open mouth.  
“He looks more like you every day,” Loki eased himself into the rocking chair between the two beds. In the other bed, Astrid snorted, flopped over onto her back and began to snore softly.  
“And she sounds more like you in turn,” Eidra giggled, nudging his foot with hers.  
Maybe we should bring Brynn to see old Clotho. The Midgardian potions he is taking seem to have lost their effectiveness.”  
“Or,” Eidra brushed a strand of Brynn's hair from his face, “We could bring him back to Midgard to see if there is anything else they might do for him. We keep speaking of it while he languishes.”  
“You keep speaking of it,”Loki sighed, “I keep waiting for you to stop.”  
“And well you shall wait for quite a bit longer,” Eidra glared at him, “In the meantime I will ask Brenna to make arrangements for a physician's visit.”  
Brynn coughed, a thick watery sound that brought him to his knees in the bed with a weak whine, indignant at being awakened. Eidra gathered him into her lap and began to rock him.  
“Shhhh, shhh, my little man. Breath deep. I am here with you,” Eidra cooed burying her nose in his damp hair.  
“Very well,” Loki leaned forward in the rocking chair to take Brynn's hand in his though the boy pulled from his grasp, wrapping his arms about Eidra's neck, “Make your arrangements.”  
Eidra gave him a gentle smile, exhaustion plain upon her face, “I will.”  
“...and you shall not go alone?”  
“No.”  
Eidra laid Brynn back down on the mattress where he curled up in a ball and she reached up to rub her shoulders, “Goodness he is become too big to hold for any length of time. I did expect you home sooner than this. Is all well at the palace?”  
Loki sat back and began to rock again, “All is well, yes. I must confess I was late coming home because I stopped for a tankard of ale in the city.”  
“I know,” Eidra turned down the wick of the lantern on the stand beside the bed, “I could smell it on you.”  
Loki pursed his lips together. The last thing he wished was to incite her to action but he could hold back the urge to tease no longer.  
“...And I was greeted by an old friend of ours, suffice it to say.”  
“Oh? Who, pray tell?”  
“The woman who was watching me at the distribution of the wine at Mabon,” Loki kept his attention on her face and was rewarded as her eyes grew wide, her pretty nose wrinkled in disgust.  
“The whore? Wherever did you find her?”  
“She was serving in the Oak and Thistle.”  
“I thought the Oak and Thistle was a reputable tavern. It would seem I was wrong.”  
“Ah do not judge the house unfairly,” Loki stood, stooping to kiss her forehead, “She is a barmaid and a dancer there.”  
Eidra shoved at him, “No doubt she was happy to dance for you?”  
He shrugged. Ah she was so easy to rile and he loved her tenfold for her quick wit, her loyalty, her jealousy.   
“But what good is a gift if the recipient has no interest? Instead I downed my ale and rushed home to see you, my heart.”  
He made to pick up the lantern but she waved it down, “I am staying here a bit longer, I wish to see him well asleep. It worries me so when he struggles to breath.”  
“Shall I stay?”  
She shook her head, “I will be along presently. You retire. Your day has been long.”  
He paused at the door, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth, “Perhaps you will do me the favor of a dance later on?”  
“'Tis you shall dance for I have the means to make you do so,” she made a hard grabbing motion at him which nearly made him laugh aloud.  
“'Twill be my pleasure, my heart,” He winked at her before disappearing into the darkness of the landing.  
Eidra frowned as she lay down beside Brynn. Perhaps she should visit the Oak and Thistle on her own in the days to come, show the little whore the backside of her hand. She lay her arm across Brynn's back and closed her eyes.

 

 

_Assignment: 64379-01  
Location: Asgard _

_Agent: Colin M. Denehy  
Date: 11/28/29_

_As I write, I am sitting here in my bedroom looking out the window at the swirling snow. The first significant snow of the season here in Asgard. Closer to Christmas break, closer to Earth. I'll be seeing my parents for the first time in....bugger me!.....over half a year! I can't wait to see Grandad's face when he holds that Asgardian coin for the first time. Beth is getting anxious. Her time is up at the end of next month. I feel for her but she has yet to decide what she's going to do about her little issue. Gretten is adamant he's going to marry her, set her up in a cottage. Makes my head swim just considering the paperwork involved which I will likely have to fill out as liaison. I advised her not to follow in Simon's footsteps, make her move nice and legal. No need for anarchy, especially now. After Capt. Rogers returned to Earth through the portal, Stark informed me his visit had been twofold. After the holidays a delegation is coming to Asgard with a proposal for another longhouse just like the project plans said. The question is should I warn Loki....or Thor....or say nothing at all? Maybe Thor will tell them to stuff their proposal, they've had enough trouble with Earth. Maybe he'll say why not, the more the merrier. I'm going to bide my time, see what Thor decides, might open my mouth. Thing is I don't relish jeopardizing my position here and every time I offer my opinion I risk pissing off one side or the other so I'm officially taking my grandad's advice and shutting me piehole for the time being.  
As for my adopted family, it goes fair. Sally has been abed lately, she doesn't get around as well as she used to. Helgi, five years her senior at the very least, has more spunk left in her though she relies more and more on her cane as of late. Edie is starting to talk more, learning by feeling our lips, our throats, mimicking the movement of our mouths. She's a bit loud but that too will pass. I've considered asking Ingrid if I could invite a Midgardian tutor for the deaf to work with Edie but it was a miracle Silas let Ingrid teach Edie sign language. Still couldn't hurt to ask. Of course then I'd have to run it by the boys at home. We will see.  
Fen is officially in love at the tender age of 12. He even managed to convince his father to invite High Council member Urtek and his family over for dinner one night for the express purpose of seeing Urtek's daughter Lisle. Urtek is likeable enough, an engaging conversationalist. His wife is a bit shrewish. Lisle, however, is the epitome of fine upbringing mixed together with the pluck of a girl who knows what she wants and how to get it. That isn't to say she's spoiled though I've no doubt her needs are very well met. Let's call her smart and be done with. After they left, Loki allowed as Lisle could be a good match for Fen. I laughed, deemed it a bout of puppy love but Loki was serious and I was reminded that marriages were often still arranged between the gentry of this realm. In the very least, Fen and Lisle get along quite well but they're young. I hope it lasts.  
Chase has become somewhat of a regular visitor to the manor, damned if it doesn't rankle me though I'll give him this, he's been nothing but polite, helpful, attentive. When Loki speaks to him, you couldn't draw his attention with a stick of dynamite shoved up his arse. Brenna, of course, is thrilled that her father and Chase have been amiable. I won't say friendly, not yet.   
The little ones, Cait, Astrid and Brynn continue to thrive.....wait, strike that. Cait and Astrid are energetic bright balls of energy. Brynn tries to keep up with them until he works himself into an asthma attack. As of late, he's been sick and nothing has been able to bring him out of it. I'm on the verge of going to Stark and asking for some antibiotics but the last time I mentioned it, Eidra resisted saying she would treat him with the elixirs Old Clotho had sent her. I think her resistance is due in part to Loki, fearing she'll anger him if she lingers too long upon the subject of Midgardian medicine. At least the little inhalers the boy uses give him some relief. So I sit and watch Brynn languish, grow paler, thinner each day and wait until Eidra at last sees it for herself.  
Silas and Gunnar showed up a couple evenings past, Silas proudly announcing that Gunnar has officially joined the ranks of the junior guardsmen in the palace meaning he would be assigned to such tasks as standing at attention outside council meetings or standing guard at the front palace doors, bringing guests into the royal chambers, along with other tasks befalling new recruits. He would have to work his way up the ranks to join his father at the King's side as the first line of defense in times of conflict. Fen gave Gunnar a fierce hug and a hearty handshake though I could see the sadness in his eyes. No longer would Gunnar be able to run off with him to fish, hunt or roam the countryside at will. Now he would have duties. He would have to bow to Fen when he visited the palace, address him properly. The poor boy. Loki confessed to me later that perhaps if Fen hadn't started out life as the son of a gentleman farmer, he'd understand the importance of following protocol.   
So three things to work on for the sake of the family I've come to love as my own. Get a tutor to help Edie learn to speak correctly. Show a united front and accept the fact that Chase is here to stay. Get Eidra to give in before the appointment she's arranged for the child and give Brynn antibiotics to clear up the respiratory infection that's been plaguing him for the past month and then some...  
I've got my hands full..._

 

“Oh Loki must you go to the palace today? Look at it outside.”  
Loki peered out one of the foyer windows. Snow was falling steadily, drifting against the windowpane in wind swept swirls, the gray light of early morning giving a somber tone to the day.  
“I have not been to the palace in two days because of the storm. It has finally let up. The Queen is returned to Midgard and I am loathe to let my oaf of a brother pine for her return. I seek to distract him from his melancholy. Brenna is riding to the encampment so we will watch over each other.”  
Eidra frowned, “And this you believe should cheer me? Both of you out in such weather?”  
Loki took her face in his hands, the sudden urge to carry her up the stairs to their bedchamber nearly overwhelming as he touched his lips to hers, “My heart, all will be well. I will return with Brenna before the evening meal only let me tend to my duties now in recompense for our stolen time together.”  
He smiled as she nuzzled his neck, “Especially the evening past. What bliss.”   
But too soon she backed away, her hand against his chest, “Promise you will hasten home as quickly as you are able.”  
“I will. Tell Brenna I am in the stables.”  
He closed the door behind him to stand on the front doorstep, waved to Hal who was leaning on his shovel to rest and started down the cleared path away from the manor.

 

Agathon whinnied a greeting, pawing at the ground in anticipation.  
“I know. You have been cooped up in this barn for far too long. You wish to have free rein and well you shall.”   
Loki headed past Agathon's stall to the tack pen for a saddle, his eyes darting toward Lightning's empty pen. He paused then, turned about to lean against the gate, staring into the dark depths, closed his eyes, seeing the stallion hard at work on a bale of hay, felt the strong muscles ripple beneath his hand, brushing the soft sleek nap of his hide, the way he would prance about much like his son, excited by the ride ahead.  
“Papa? Are you alright?”  
Loki opened his eyes, turned to see Brenna standing there, hands clasped before her.  
“Ah yes. I was just....remembering,” Loki glanced once more into the stall before he continued down the barn toward the tack pen.  
“Papa I am sorry.”  
Loki stopped, his hand on Agathon's saddle, “Sorry? Whatever for?”  
Brenna's hand flew to her chest, “I am sorry I dared not try to save Lightning. I know how very much he meant to you.”  
Loki lifted the saddle from its sawhorse, “He was a dear friend but also was he old, Brenna. All lives end. Come saddle Willow before she kicks the gate open.”  
“I was afraid to try. I was afraid for myself.”  
Loki sat the saddle down on the stable floor before Agathon's stall and turned to her, “Brenna, I never expected you would try in the first place.”  
When she flew into his arms, Loki was taken aback, “Brenna, my dearest heart. What in Odin's name has come over you?”  
“I shouldn't have kept it a secret. I am so heartily sorry, Pa...pa,” she stammered, her face buried against his shoulder, “But I did not want you to be angry!”  
“Bren,” he stroked her hair, kissed the top of her head, “I am most assuredly not angry. There is no need to be so upset.”  
“No, no!” Brenna looked up at him, “Listen to me. When I passed out after fixing Master Foster's prism so very long ago, Mister Stark was gravely concerned. I told him of my headaches when next I went to fetch Brynn's medication and he suggested I return to Midgard with him for a check up.”  
Loki stiffened though he kept his reply calm, even, “A checkup?”  
“His physician sought to find the cause of the headaches and Papa, they found a tumor,” she pointed to her head, “...here. They had a machine through which they were able to watch my brain. It is called an MRI. They had me heal an object and told me my ability to heal was responsible for the tumor.”  
“A...tu..mor?” Loki held her at arms length, “Whatever is a tumor? Are you in danger?”  
Brenna bit her lip, shook her head, “A tumor is a growth, like a lump of tissue that has formed where it should not be. As long as I do not use my power to heal things except under the most dire of circumstances, I should be safe. Mister Stark has ordered me to have another test in the spring to make certain the tumor is not growing. Please you must promise me, swear to me you will not chide Mister Stark for his obvious concern for my well being. He has been nothing but kind to me, on Midgard and here in Asgard. Swear it, Papa.”  
Loki put a hand to her forehead, smoothing her brow with his thumb as he stared into her sweet face, “I will swear to it if you will swear never again to heal anything, animal, human, or otherwise. Nothing is worth your health, do you ken? Nothing and no one.”  
“I would not have you here to argue with me were it not for my powers. You cannot justify such a promise but if you will uphold your end, I will do my level best to uphold mine.”  
He pulled her back into an embrace and they stood there for a long time, she happy to be free of the burden of a terrible secret, he bearing the load in her stead.  
“Who have you told of this?”  
Brenna thought of Colin, hugged her father closer, “No one, Papa. Only Mister Stark, Miss Potts and you.”  
“Then it will stay this way. Do not tell your mother, your brothers or sisters, not Helgi, no one. Do as you are charged and they will never have cause to worry. Do I speak truth?”  
Brenna nodded, sniffed, “Always.”   
He squeezed her tighter then held her by the shoulders, “Now know I will speak with Stark about this...no no...do not look upon me so. I will only ask his opinion upon your affliction. 'Tis true we have not always agreed but as of late he has been more a friend than an enemy,” Loki looked into her eyes, “But we shall also keep this to ourselves lest he become overconfident.”  
Brenna wiped her eyes, giggled, “Were I to tell him he would not believe it in any case, Papa.”  
“Mmm, now let us saddle the horses and be off so we may sooner return.”

 

Colin rolled over on his side, reaching for the flashlight on his night stand. The numbers glowing on the screen of his tablet read 02:30. He sat up, listening to the heavy footsteps pass his bedchamber door, already knowing it was Loki. If his tread had not already been familiar to him, his distracted silence at the evening meal was a sure sign something was troubling him. Colin lay there as the footsteps faded and the stairs creaked. Only then did he swing his feet over the floor and fumble for his robe.  
At the railing, looking into the foyer below, he spied the faint glow of candle light coming from the sitting room. He stood there some time wondering if he should just go back to sleep but in the end, he eased down the stairs until he could see Loki sitting in his chair before the fireplace, a lantern placed on the mantle casting him in shadow as he leaned forward, his face in his hands. Shivering with the cold, Colin wrapped his robe tighter about him and approached. When he drew near, Loki's head came up and he turned in his chair.  
“It's me. I heard you walk past my door. I hope I'm not intruding.”  
Loki sat back, a hand to his forehead, “I could not sleep,” he waved to Eidra's chair beside him, “Join me if you wish. I should put a few logs upon the coals.”  
Loki made to stand up but Colin shook his head as he settled into the chair, “Ah don't go to any great lengths on my account. What's keeping you up so late might I ask. Trouble at the palace?”  
Before the evening meal, Loki had told him how when he'd finally reached the palace he found his brother had dismissed all audiences for the day and was brooding in his bedchamber. Loki had spent most of the day convincing Thor to resume his duties at once before the High Council began to question his absence, chiding him for his bout of melancholy.   
“I told Thor either he must bear the Queen's visit to Midgard as an Asgardian King or recall her back to Asgard and in the end he decided for the time being to bear the weight though he is exceeding lonely. I am of a mind he may end up here on the divan for a visit so morose is he. No, it has been ages since my brother has kept me awake. I am troubled by a far greater demon.”  
“Oh?” Colin felt a knot working its way into his stomach, “Do tell.”  
Loki dropped his hand away from his forehead and Colin was struck by how drawn the candlelight made him look, “Brenna informed me she is ill.”  
Colin took a deep breath, “What do you mean? She hasn't mentioned feeling sick.”  
Loki raised his eyes to the ceiling, “She has told no one so she claims. It would seem Stark felt it was his obligation to perform tests on my daughter when she complained of headaches and thus he found something called a tumor.”  
“A tumor?” Colin forced himself to sit up straighter, frustrated by the tremor in his voice, “Where?”  
Loki tapped his temple, “I do not ken everything he told me. I am not as well versed in the field of Midgardian medicine as Brenna but he believes this tumor is the cause of her headaches and it is linked somehow to her power to heal things.”  
“Damn,” Colin murmured, more to himself than as a reaction, “I am so sorry. What else did Stark say?”  
Loki massaged the bridge of his nose, “He said Brenna was in no danger but that she should try not to use her power though I have already warned her not to do so. I wonder if it will do any good? I have not told Eidra nor shall I. She has enough to worry about,” he put his hands atop his head, groaned, “Colin, has Stark told me true? Will Brenna be safe so long as she does not use her gift?”  
Colin stared up at the lantern, watching the flame dance about the wick, “I don't know. I'm not a doctor and honestly neither is Mister Stark. There are no absolutes but the best way to be sure is to bring her to Midgard and talk to someone who does know.”  
But Loki was already shaking his head, “I will not subject her to more tests. If she keeps her promise to me, all will be well.”  
Colin looked at Loki, could see the set of his jaw and knew he'd made his decision. He pushed himself up from the chair, “She values yer approval above all else. There's pitiful little would make her break a vow to you and if Stark's doctors say she'll be safe, she will. He has access to the best physicians in the world...or rather Earth, at least. Now, If you'll excuse me, I've got an early morning coming.”  
He gave Loki a short bow, receiving a wry smile in return, “Good evening to you, my friend.”  
“And to you, yer Highness.”  
He had reached the archway into the foyer when Loki called to him, “I confess I have requested Stark to bring one of his own physicians to Asgard this coming week to tend to Brynn's lung problems. Perhaps I should ask him about Brenna.”  
Colin held his smile in check. One task ticked off the list. “It couldn't hurt.”  
“My family means everything to me.”  
“I know, yer Highness. Good evening.”

 

Back on the second floor landing, Colin stopped, gazed at Brenna's door. She hadn't told her father he knew about the tumor. For that he was grateful. If there was anything he could do to help ease Loki's mind, he would. He sighed, turned and disappeared into the darkness of his bedchamber.


	60. 60

Beads of sweat broke out on Simon's forehead. The rich earth underneath his hands was growing warm and he almost pulled his hands back but Harmand's voice in his ear made him redouble his efforts.  
“I can see it, my boy! Look!”  
Simon dared not open his eyes even when he heard Lelia gasp.  
“Simon! Oh look! Do ye see the blades a grass, Wickett?”  
“Wickett sees, Wickett sees!”  
Wickett's response threatened to break Simon's concentration. Wickett, a young dwarf cursed with a simple mind, had attached himself to Lelia and Simon from the day they arrived in the village with Harmand. Pledging his services to them, he had taken to sleeping at the hearth of the small cottage which they had been given the use of and was a constant source of consternation as well as amusement.  
At first Simon thought Lelia was merely trying to encourage him but all at once, he felt something tickle the palm of his hand, then the tips of his fingers, wrists. Grass?  
He opened his eyes. The earth beneath his hand had sprouted thin blades of grass. He could literally see them growing though they slowed as his concentration finally broke.  
“ 'Tis a fine gift ye have, Simon,” Lelia murmured, kneeling beside him and sliding her arms about his neck, “Ye could make yer fortune traveling the realms helping farmers with poor crops, dead soil.”  
“You're right, lass,” Harmand puffed on his pipe while murmurs of assent arose from the crowd of villagers gathered in the lodge, “He has a wonderful gift indeed. And to think you'd no idea, my boy.”  
Simon sat back on his heels, staring into the clay pot filled with dirt as the wind howled outside the lodge. They had been sitting around the table at the cottage, Harmand, Lelia and himself, Wickett by the fire plaiting a length of rope when Simon happened to mention the one thing he missed the most from Midgard....  
“My garden, the flower beds, doing the yard work. I had a beautiful trellis covered with roses, great peony bushes, heather, wildflower patches, a step waterfall running into a pool filled with lily pads and frogs....ah it was so peaceful.”  
“Your connection with nature even in your own realm was strong, perhaps you have some hidden power you know nothing of, say, the ability to grow things.”  
Simon had laughed, “Everyone said I had a green thumb...a phrase from Earth. Means I was good with plants..gardens. Nothing special.”  
When Harmand fixed him with a stony stare, he waved him off, “I was interested in gardening. That's it, that's all.”  
Now, there he knelt on the flagstone floor of the lodge, a hand to his mouth.  
“This is abnormal. I mean I couldn't do this at home. Why can I do it now? What's different?”  
“ You are in Alfheim now. 'Tis said Midgardians no longer practice magic. They're powerless, nothing more than human beings.”  
Simon thought of Doctor Banner, Steve Rogers, still others, mutants whose faces seemed to grace the page of the newspapers daily, “Not all of them. A large majority yes but it still doesn't explain this,” he pointed to the clay pot.  
“But it does, lad. It means you were meant...,”  
“Stop right there. If I hear I was meant to come here to Asgard...,”  
“Alfheim..” Harmand pointed with the stub of his pipe.  
“Alfheim then. I will scream, I promise you.”  
Harmand sniffed, chewed on the stub of his pipe.  
“And now that I'm here,” Simon stood, brushing the dirt from his hands on his breeches, “You tell me the next step is to leave again.”  
Harmand clapped Simon on the shoulder, “I said the runes are being called home. You have been sent to gather them and so we must travel to Muspelheim to the descendants of Bantr and retrieve the rune Kenaz.”  
“From who?” Simon cried, “How can you find something if you don't know where to look for it?”  
Harmand lifted the hood of his cloak over his head as he stood at the lodge doors, “We will seek out Surtr's stronghold and ask for his help. Just as the rune Laguz guided you here, so will the rune Kenaz draw you to it.”  
Harmand opened the door, grimacing at the the cold winter wind that rushed inside. Simon drew his cloak tighter about him, “And what if the owner refuses to part with this rune? What then?”  
Harmand looked over his shoulder at Simon, “They will know you for what you are and be honored to help. 'Tis you who doubt.”  
“Me love, Harmand speaks true,” Simon felt a hand at his back, reached around to interlace his fingers with Lelia's, “The rune legends are spread over all realms. Let fate guide ye yet again.”  
Simon squeezed her hand as they stepped outside and headed back to their cottage, Wickett close behind.

 

Lelia shifted position in bed, snuggling further beneath the covers until she lay still again. Simon watched her from the rocking chair before the fireplace then returned his attention to Wickett's plaiting as he sat cross legged on the stones to the right of the hearth.  
“So you're going to barter that pile of rope for a horse?”  
Wickett nodded, his wide eyes lighting up as he smiled, “Yes indeedy. A goodly stallion. Wickett has his eyes on Tengin's gray spotted steed.”  
“Didn't know you could ride,” Simon stretched, yawned, “In the past couple weeks here I've not seen you go near a horse.”  
At this, Wickett laughed aloud eliciting a groan from Lelia, “Wickett rides, Chief Elder Harmand rides, Widow Vega rides, Smithy Joanas rides, everyone rides. Not everyone has a horse though.”  
“Good point. Where I come from, most people have left horses behind. Now they race them or keep them as pets.”  
Wickett stopped braiding the length of rope in his lap to stare up at Simon who at once began to think up a response to Wickett's inevitable question.  
“How does people get around without horses for their wagons or carriages?”  
“They walk a lot. Only the well off have horses.”  
He wasn't lying on either count. Only the rich could afford the upkeep on horses and people did walk a lot. Did it matter if he left out the fact they also rode around in cars and on bikes?  
“Wickett sees,” he returned his attention to the rope, “Wickett thinks he will stay here in Melos, though.”  
“”Wise choice, so tell me, what do you plan to do with the horse once you get it?”  
Wickett's braiding slowed, “Why Wickett is going to follow you to Muspelheim. The descendant of Melos needs someone to take care of him, he does.”  
Simon looked over at the bed. Wickett would have to fight for position in that case.   
“No Simon does not.”  
Wickett looked so entirely crestfallen that Simon leaned forward and set his hand on the young man's shoulder, “Simon does not need a caretaker, he needs a traveling companion. We'll take care of each other.”  
Simon stole another glance at the bed. He had been torn between sneaking away in the middle of the night and telling her outright she was going to remain here in the village while he made the journey to Muspelheim but either way he'd made his decision when he spoke to Harmand about what they would find in the land of the fire Jotunns.  
“In Muspelheim there be giants, me boy. For the most part anyhow. Red of skin and dark of eye. They come in all sizes, small, middling, large, enormous. There are some take human form. The son of Surtr is one such a giant. He's married to a woman from Alfheim so I've heard tell. The finest wines come from their land which is rich with soil from ancient volcanoes. They are amiable traders but they can be a surly lot when goaded to war. Care must be taken when dealing with their kind....”

“.....have you ever seen the fire giants?”  
Wickett nodded, “We call them Jotunn. There be two breed of them. The fire Jotunn and the ice Jotunn. The ice jotunn live in Jotunheim, a realm of endless winter. They are proud, savage warriors who made war on the other realms ages ago before Odin of Asgard drove them back until they fell, defeated. The fire Jotunn are far milder, oh they're wild to be sure and they can be fierce...has Master Foster seen them?”  
Simon thought of Velos who had most definitely not looked the part when they met at Odin's funeral, “I have though...”  
“Simon!” Lelia moaned, pushing herself up on one elbow, “Will ye stop yer endless chatter and come to bed?”  
Wickett snickered behind the hands he'd clamped over his mouth as Simon rose from the chair, “I'm on my way.”  
Simon winked at Wickett who began to rock back and forth, holding his laughter in like he'd just been told a most hilarious joke.  
Simon climbed into the bed beside Lelia, watching Wickett burrow into the blankets atop his pallett.  
“We should get him a cot or some such thing. It can't be good to lie on that hard stone...”  
A hand groped for him, pulling him down to the mattress, a muffled voice rising from the down pillow.  
“Go t' sleep, Great Freyr.”  
Lelia molded herself to his side and started to hum as he began again to consider how much easier it would be to slip away while she slept, and the row there was going to be when at last they parted ways.

 

The pain in her bottom lip made her head swim. Eris put her hand up to her mouth, winced, looked at her fingertips, wet with blood. The room had fallen silent, a miracle considering how very full the tavern was this night, the fiddle winding down as if it had simply run out of steam. Willa had recovered control of the tray she was carrying and now stood looking down at Eris, sprawled at her feet.  
“You bitch,” Eris hissed, “You hit me on purpose!”  
The men sitting at the tables around them whistled as Eris pulled herself up to stand, hands curled into fists. One of the men, a portly white haired man with a long beard clapped his hands, “Oooo, ye've done it now, Willa. Ye've poked yer head into the bear's den.”  
“Bull's pizzle!” Willa spat, “I've my job to do, you've yours. Can I help it if you will not watch where you're dancing?”  
Behind Willa, Eris spied Perth pushing men and women aside as he made his way toward them.  
“You waited until I was right next to you and stuck out your fucking elbow! You petty, jealous whore!” Putting a hand to Willa's chest, Eris shoved her backward, unseating the empty tankards on her tray to clatter across the floorboards.  
“I'll claw your eyes out, you wench!” Willa cried, flinging the empty tray at Eris as catcalls rose through the tavern, shouts of encouragement, quickly quashed when Perth flung a meaty arm around Willa's neck and motioned to Eris with the other.  
“In the kitchen...NOW!”  
Pressing the back of her hand to her bleeding lip, Eris followed Perth and Willa, ignoring the hoots and boos of the patrons as she wove through the tables and into the kitchen where Neve and Cabel stood gaping at them, stunned into silence. Perth set Willa and and Eris against the wall where he stood there staring at them his hands on his hips.  
“ 'Ere now. I've had it with the two a ya. Willa, there wasn't no need ta get in the way while she were dancing and you, Eris, ya might be the biggest draw I've had but ya need ta learn ta let things go. I run a respectable establishment and I'll not have it torn apart by petty spats. Now sort it out, the two a ya or you'll find yourselves out on your ears!”  
They stood there, looking at Perth for a long moment until Perth tipped his head to Willa, “Now get ta serving those thirsty patrons and watch where you're stepping.”  
Eris stood there, glanced at Neve who was holding a wet cloth in her hands, hopping from one foot to the other, so eager was she to reach Eris and wipe the blood from her chin.  
“Eris, I've begged ya, stay clear a Willa...,”  
“Goddamnit Perth! She ran into me...!” Eris cried, “I didn't do..”  
Perth held a finger to his lips, “Ah now see? 'Tis the same thing she'll say ta me about you. No more excuses. I'm right fond of ya, lass but if ya can't find level ground, you'll both be looking for new positions. Now clean yourself up and get ta serving. I'll handle the patrons.”  
No sooner did Perth step through the doorway back into the tavern than Neve was upon Eris in a second, pressing the cold cloth against her bleeding lip. Eris hissed at the comforting cool sting of the water though she took the cloth from Neve and took a seat at the long wooden table where Cabel sat opposite, chunking potatoes and throwing them into a great iron pot.  
Neve settled herself down beside Eris, “That whore causes trouble for the last time.”  
“I seriously doubt it,” Eris muttered, taking the cloth away, looking at it, replacing it back onto her lip, “She'll always be a giant pain in my ass. Maybe Perth had the right idea. Maybe I should move on.”  
“Noooo!” Neve wailed so loud, Eris put her hand over Neve's mouth.  
“Geez, will you be quiet,” Eris looked out the doorway to see Perth staring at her from the other side of the tavern, “Now you want to see me tossed out into the middle of the night, in winter no less?”  
“You can't leaves me here alone! I'll follow you. I'll go wherever you goes.”  
Cabel smirked, dropped another handful of potatoes into the pot, “You aren't agoin' anywhere, Neve. Perth owns you!”  
“My will be mine!” Neve growled, “I goes where Eris goes.”  
Cabel gave her a wry grin though he said nothing more. Eris stood up, walked to the barrel of fresh water by the back door and took up a dipperful, swishing it around in her mouth. She opened the back door and spit the water into the snow then, regarding the dark pink stain it left on the white ground.   
When she turned about, Neve was standing behind her, a sly grin on her face.  
“I'll cures you of what ills you, my dearest friend.”  
Coming from anyone else, Neve's words might have seemed comforting but Eris shook her head. More than once Neve had spoken of putting an end to Eris's problem, flashing the stiletto she kept in a holster in one of her boots.  
“Forget it, Neve. We'd both be fingered for it, put that thought right out of your mind.”  
Eris rubbed Neve's shoulders, surprised at the tears which sprang to Neve's eyes as she reached out and dabbed at Eris's lip again.  
“It's not fair. A hurt for a hurt I says.”  
“But that's not how it works here. We'll talk later,” Eris turned Neve about, giving her a gentle shove toward the kitchen door, “I'll be out in a moment.”  
Without another word, Neve trudged back through the doorway into the tavern proper.  
Eris looked at her outfit with a sigh. There'd be no more dancing tonight. She might as well change back into her serving dress. As her foot hit the bottom step of the stairway, she heard Cabel laugh.  
“Eris, doll, you'd do well to distance yourself from that drow. Loyal she may be to you but she has the heart of a Svartlheimr.”  
“And that means?”  
“It means she's dangerous. She can't hold in her rage forever, her nature is to war. The women of the dark elves are fiercer warriors than the men.”  
When Eris rolled her eyes and continued on up the stairs, Cabel called to her, “Take my warning as a friend!”  
Eris threw open the door to her room. Cabel was anything but a friend. Still, as she adjusted her blouse in the wavy piece of glass which stood for a mirror, she thought of the long thin blade Neve carried about. Maybe she would conveniently hide it later that night. All at once, she felt exhausted. Perhaps it was time for a change of scenery after all. Closing the door behind her, she trotted down the stairs past Cabel into the tavern. It was time to play the sultry serving girl again.

 

The crow of the rooster assaulted Lelia's ears. She shoved her head beneath her pillow, groping for Simon to pull him close. Perhaps they could steal some time alone before rising for the day. Nearly half a fortnight past, they had consummated their relationship in one unguarded gloriously impassioned coupling and she soon found mornings to be her favorite part of the day, snuggling afterward, talking of what they would do when they returned to Asgard. He'd pondered becoming a gentleman farmer then she would laugh as he named off a dozen other occupations, all foreign to her. Florist, horticulturist, interior decorator, lorry driver.   
She smiled, groped for him again. Finding his side of the bed empty, she rose up on her elbow to look about the bedchamber. He must have risen early. She flopped back on the pillow with a great sigh.  
“Simon!”  
Silence.  
“Wickett!”  
Her voice echoed hollow in the room.  
She sat up, threw her legs over the cold floor, slipped on her boots, and grabbed her robe from the end of the bed before stumbling out into the common room. There was a low fire burning in the grate of the fireplace. She took a couple small logs and set them into the flames then walked to one of the windows to peer outside. The village was well awake, dwarven folk going about their daily chores, opening up shops, sweeping their doorsteps from the light snow that had fallen overnight, pulling water from the village well. She glanced at the oak bucket by the door and shuddered. There was no avoiding it. She wanted to have tea ready for him when he returned to the cottage. She grabbed her cloak from the hook by the door, lifted the bucket and stepped outside.  
She pulled the collar of her cloak over her mouth to keep out the biting cold air as she hurried to the well a few yards distant. Harmand's wife, Finch, was just hauling her bucket up onto the edge of the well when Lelia arrived with a muffled “Hello.”  
“Oh hello, dearie,” Finch looked about the village square as if searching for something, “How are you feelin'?  
“Cold,” Lelia took the dripping hook from Finch and secured it to the handle of her bucket, “Have ye seen Simon this morn? He rose early. Wickett is wandered off too.”  
Finch gripped her own bucket tightly, looked around again, “Ah Hel and be damned. Lelia, love, they've gone.”  
Lelia stood there as the words made their way through her head, her body before settling on top of her heart. She let the bucket go, pivoted about and staggered toward the cottage, her boots slipping in the snow as she tried to run, panic taking hold of her.  
She straight armed the front door screaming, “SIMON! SIMOOON!” racing about the common room, the bedchamber before rushing out the rear door to the small yard. From here she could see the valley they'd risen out of a couple weeks previous when they finally reached Harmand's village.  
“SIMON!” she cried, jumping from the stone steps as a hand touched her shoulder. Finch had followed her and was now standing there, her plump, jolly face clouded over with concern.  
“They left last night. I told Simon he was a right troll to do this to you.”  
“What!” Lelia pushed Finch out of the doorway, rushing back inside, “What has that foolish man-child done? Where has he gone?”  
“They left for Muspelheim,” Finch trailed after her into the bedchamber, “He was adamant you should stay here safe with us. He feared for your safety.”  
Lelia was on her knees, fishing beneath the bed for her satchel, “And to be sure I've kept him safe many a time. He needs me!” She flung the satchel on the coverlet and threw the doors of the tall wardrobe wide, tossing onto the bed the two dresses she had brought, breeches, a tunic, until Finch pulled the garments from her hands.  
“They charged us with keeping you safe, keeping you here. They're far afield now. You would loose your way, freeze to death out there. 'Tis winter!”  
Lelia yanked her tunic from Finch's hands only to have the satchel disappear from the coverlet, tucked under Finch's arm.  
“Ye give me my pack!” Lelia leaped across the bed to fall on her stomach, only managing a handful of Finch's skirt, “Simon needs me! Simon NEEDS ME!” she began to sob, her face buried in her hands, “Who will...c..are for him? Who will keep h..him warm at night?”  
Finch set the satchel on the floor, sat on the bed beside Lelia and began to rub her back, “Wickett is with him. Harmand too and near a half dozen other men.”  
When Lelia shook her head, Finch clucked her tongue, “Now he will fare just fine. He was loathe to leave you but he wanted you safe and warm here.”  
“How can I be safe and warm now without him?”  
Finch smiled to herself, “You'll be fine. Come stay with me in our cottage until he returns. 'Tis worse to be alone when you're low.”  
Lelia lay there, her sobs dwindling until finally she crawled forward to sit beside Finch, “I would follow Simon Foster into Hel itself and now he's left me here to wait and worry. Me heart is breaking.”  
Finch rose from the bed, gathering the clothes and stuffing them in the satchel before she took Lelia's arm, guiding her out of the bedchamber to the common room where she stood as Finch banked the small fire, “Now, you keep your heart in one piece. Simon left you here out of love. Come on, I've the day's baking to get on with.”  
Taking a last look about the cottage, Lelia followed Finch out into the winter morning, her satchel clutched to her chest.

 

Simon had reined in his horse and was now turned in his saddle to glance back the way they'd come.  
“She's up now,” he sighed to Wickett who'd stopped at his right flank, “She's just realizing I've gone off without her.”  
Harmand pulled his horse short beside Simon, “I've charged my wife to keep her well. 'Twas your idea to leave her before she awoke.”  
“If we hadn't, she would have begged and cried so I wouldn't have had a choice but to take her. If she's there in the village, I can focus on the task at hand knowing she's safe.”  
“It's a bit quieter,” Harmand tapped the side of his nose.  
Wickett giggled as Simon bit his lip, “A bit. Honestly? I'm going bonkers without her.”  
During the first couple hours of the trip, he'd amused himself talking to Wickett, receiving simple answers, laughing at Wickett's inane replies but now he missed Lelia's chatter terribly. She was as wise as she was beautiful even if she did tend to go on a bit. He enjoyed talking to her, hearing about Asgard, telling her about Midgard, about the wonders of his realm, musing about their future, listening to her relate folk tales, legends, he even enjoyed working her up into an irritated frenzy. He shuddered to think about camping for the evening without her songs to soothe him to sleep.  
“Simon made a good choice,” Wickett nodded, a solemn look on his face, “Lelia would have begged to come with him.”  
“Aye, like you did, eh?” Harmand eyed Wickett, causing him to blush crimson, “Ah, 'tis no matter. You're more help than hindrance, boy.”  
Wickett sat straighter on his horse, beaming as they broke into a trot again.  
“How far did you say Surtr's's stronghold is?” Simon asked, peering down the rough road before them.  
“A couple days ride at least,” Harmand pointed to a high ridge of mountains, their tops shrouded in low clouds, “The closer we come to the border of Muspelheim, the warmer it will be until it would seem spring has bloomed. Such is the nature of the fire giants realm.”  
“So we're going on a holiday then?” Simon chuckled, his mirth cut short by a curt shake of Harmand's head.  
“The giants are friend to the Asgardians but they have had little parlay with the dwarven folk. We simply have nothing to do with one another.”  
“I've met Velos, Surtr's son. He was at the funeral of Odin. He didn't seem very imposing, rather a nice fellow in fact.”  
Harmand nodded, “And so he may be but I say again, you were in Asgard among friends. Here you are with strangers, going to a strange land. I myself have never been inside Muspelheim's borders.”  
Simon pulled his horse up short again, “So we're paying these giants a visit without knowing whether they want us there? What if they imprison us, what if they kill us?”  
“I doubt they're going to kill us.”  
“Wonderful,” Simon threw his hands in the air, “That's such a relief! Do you have any more good news? Perhaps they're given to torture? Slavery?”  
Harmand stroked his beard, “Slavery? I've not the slightest notion. Torture, now that's entirely possible. Even the most civilized tribes are prone to violence now and again, do you ken?”  
Simon glared at him though he shrugged it off, “We will never find out if we keep stopping to ponder our fate. Soonest begun is soonest done.”  
“Soonest done,” Wickett echoed as they started forward once more.

 

Marwen chewed her lip as she glanced once again toward the great oaken hutch wondering when Velos would discover his cup was missing. She'd taken it down from the display racks which held her finest plates and cups, serving dishes, small important gifts and the like, rearranging them to cover the space left and had put the old chalice inside the cupboards which made up the bottom of the hutch. As of late, it had started to glow almost continually, especially when the baby was nearby. Once it had happened when they were all in the room together but either Velos didn't notice or was already aware of the eerie phenomenon. She thought to question him about it but always something stopped her whether it be the baby fussing, company to entertain, chores to see to, whatever the case. At one point, given the cup's timing, she wondered if it didn't in fact have a mind of its own.  
Now, as they sat at the long polished granite table, eating quietly, she glared over Velos's shoulder at the thin sliver of light pouring from the slit between the cupboard doors, willing the chalice to cease its foolishness, missing Velos's curious stare as he sat, a forkful of chicken halfway to his mouth, gazing across at her.  
“Wen? What are you staring at?”  
Marwen blinked once, twice before she looked to Velos with a smile, “Nothing, my love. I was merely thinking.”  
“I do hope such dreadful thoughts never visit you again,” Velos muttered around a mouthful of roast chicken, “You looked ready to draw your dagger.”  
“ 'Twas nothing. I was considering our trip to your father's two days hence.”  
Velos raised an eyebrow, “Not reconsidering are you? Mother is beside herself at the thought of seeing Maros. 'Tis all she talked about when I was there.”  
“Not at all. I was merely thinking of what we must pack. Do not trouble yourself.”  
Velos held her gaze a moment longer then shrugged, “Chalar and Tibala will take care of those details, it is you who should not trouble yourself. Eat.”  
Maros, who'd been watching their exchange quietly, now banged on the table with his wooden spoon, “Lights out!”  
Marwen glanced at the hutch again. The light was gone, for the time being.  
“Indeed,” Velos tapped his temple, “now finish your meal.”  
Marwen breathed a sigh of relief, picked up her fork and began to tear at her chicken.


	61. 61

_Assignment: 64379-01  
Location: Asgard _

_Agent: Colin M. Denehy  
Date: 12/03/29_

_I was going over my journal entries this afternoon and like a lightning bolt it struck me. Simon has been AWOL for going on two months. Is he dead? Imprisoned somewhere? Living happily in some remote Asgardian village? Who knows. We've heard fuck all from him since his letter. To be honest, I don't have a clue what shite Stark is feeding the boys across the portal but he's been able to keep Simon's absence a secret. He even fed Captain Rogers a line when he helped test the portal. It was a bit trickier a couple days ago when Doctor Banner consented to cross over to see Loki's son Brynn about his asthma but then again Simon's absence was a mere footnote to the excitement caused by the examination and subsequent testing of Loki's youngest son.  
It started out quietly enough. Loki, Eidra and Brenna arrived at Longhouse 1 with Brynn who was treating the outing as an adventure as he'd never seen the encampment. His enthusiasm was marred by a slight attack, quickly remedied with a shot from his puffer though his high spirits waned quickly enough when we brought him to the med bays in one corner of the longhouse. Upon meeting Doctor Banner, Brynn proceeded to bury his face in his mother's waist. Normally shy with strangers, he seemed to sense Banner most definitely did not belong on Asgard (confirmed by Stark later when he admitted he'd had Brenna use the Uruz to bring him here. I held my hands over my ears and sang very loudly “The Soldier's Song” until he took the hint and put a finger to his lips). Meeting Banner turned out to be the easy part. Eidra was able to coax Brynn up onto the exam table so Banner could listen to his chest and look in his ears and nose, Brynn holding Eidra's hand the whole time.   
I can't blame the lad really. Everything Banner was doing seemed alien to him and at five years old fear is a great motivator. Then came the allergy tests. Suffice it to say Brynn will be one of those men who will call on the physician only when he's dead. Eidra coaxed him to lie on his stomach. Though he whimpered when Banner wiped down his back with alcohol and started to put the allergens on his back, we managed to convince him to lie still. While Banner was busy, I told Loki the next step and to my surprise, he blanched white. Upon turning to the boy, however, Banner caught Loki's expression and nodded at Brynn,“You might want to help hold him down or he'll have to go through this again.”  
So we surrounded the boy as Banner bent over with the lancet bar in hand...._

_Even the sickest of Asgardian children are stronger than any Earthling adult..._

_To keep the screaming child on the table took four of us putting our weight on his arms and legs. At one point I looked up at Loki and saw tears in his eyes as he watched his son struggle to be freed of the horrible Midgardian torture device but at last, after an interminably long half hour Banner was wiping the boy's back free of the irritants and shaking his head.  
“He's showed a reaction to dust mites, mold, pretty common in this environment but one of the strongest reactions seem to have come from horses.”  
“He's allergic to fecking horses?” I cried, “The only form of transportation in this realm?”  
Banner gave Eidra and Loki a wry grin, “I'm afraid so but we can treat him with allergy shots.”  
It was a blessing the sniffling child curled up into his mother's lap hadn't the slightest idea what shots were or we'd have been peeling him off the ceiling. Banner promised he would set up the serum for the encampment physician but that they had to follow the regimen faithfully for it to be effective. Of course, Loki, a serious look on his face, asked Banner, “Will it cure him of this affliction?”   
“We don't have a cure for the body's reaction to allergens but we can alleviate the symptoms so he won't be sick all the time.”  
“Then we will follow this...regimen you suggest.”  
Brynn will be due for his first shot next week.  
I'm planning to be absent for that._

_And just when I thought things were quieting down, I had a visitor last evening, my friend from beyond the veil. I had seen him about the house from time to time over the past few months, watching the children play, drifting along behind Loki and Eidra listening to their conversation, sitting beside Sally, hovering over her bed as she slept but for the most part we exchanged nods, smiles.  
Last night, however, I was shutting off my tablet and getting ready to lay down to sleep when I looked toward the door to my bedchamber to see Chris standing there, wringing his hands.  
“Forgive an old fool for disturbing you, lad.”  
I shrugged. In all my life seeing the dead as I did, I'd never felt disturbed. Maybe a bit disoriented, as if peering through a window at the landscape of another dimension. I guess. in all actuality, I was.  
“Yer not disturbing me. More to the point, what's disturbing you?”  
He floated over to the bed and sat down, or rather hovered over the end of my bed.   
“I see death all around me,” he muttered, scanning the room.  
“Yer a cheery sort aren't you? The only dead I see is the spirit before me.”  
“I said death not dead, boy!” Chris waved his hands frantically in the air, “My sweet Sally is nearing the end of her journey and there are others for whom the thread of life is fraying.”  
Here Chris pressed his fingers to his lips, stopping his thoughts from escaping.  
“Anyone we know?” I ventured, my words taking on a high warble as panic tightened my throat.  
Chris nodded then and a thousand people ran through my head at once, Brenna, Loki, Eidra, Thor, Stark, Chase....  
“The circle is closing, the runes are converging. Fate has dealt you a hand you must play...”  
My blood turned cold as Chris's voice took on a hollow quality...  
“The family will be divided as it has never been before, its heart torn asunder. You alone possess the power to mend the rift...”  
If I'd the ability to cover his mouth with my hand I would have but I could only sit there stunned into silence as he continued on..  
“This is the sole reason you were called here to Asgard, the Protector, the descendant of Volundr...”  
“Wait a minute! I never mentioned any of the shite Trena....”  
When I interrupted his speech, he turned to me, a startled look upon his incorporeal face.  
“I beg your pardon. What are you talking about?”  
“You've just been spouting prophecies for the last two minutes, all about the same tripe I've had from that mad seer at the palace.”  
Well not exactly the same but another piece to the puzzle...  
When Chris shook his head I was gobsmacked.  
“I came here to tell you I was worried about my Sally being alone when her time comes to cross over. Whatever are you going on about?”  
I sat there staring at him, trying to judge as best I could if he was pulling my leg because if it were the case I was going to give him a right piece of my mind but he just hovered there, concern growing on his features.  
“My boy, I said nothing save that Sally's time was nearly up. Good heavens, are you well?”  
Was I?   
Had I truly heard him speak or had the voice been inside my head?  
“I'm fine, I was daydreaming....or night dreaming. I'm fine. My mind was wandering.”  
Chris floated to his feet, “You're in need of rest to be certain. Do keep an eye on Sally for me won't you? I would suggest you tell Eidra but 'twould only alarm her and she has enough to worry about what with her little ones.”  
“Sure, i'll watch her. She won't be alone.”  
Chris smiled at me as he faded into the chill bedchamber air, “There's a good lad. There's a brave lad.”  
A brave lad? Before I could ask him what there was to be brave about, he was gone.  
I rose up from my bed, lit a lantern, and walked out to the hallway, stood at the landing for a good long while, staring into the gloom at the doors surrounding mine, Brenna's, Fen's, the twins, Cait's, Eidra's and Loki's at the far end. Sally's and Helgi's around the bend along the west wing.   
The family would be divided? How? And I was going to mend the rift? Accepting my place in the history of Asgard was one thing but this was a true conundrum. What kind of rift? I wasn't cut out to play marriage counselor, not by a long shot.   
The creak of a door opening caught my attention. Cait shuffled out of her bedchamber into the hallway, rubbing her eyes, her rag doll stuffed beneath her arm.  
“Colin?”  
“Yes, luv.”  
“Could I have some water?”  
My attention turned away from such serious matters by the needs of a sweet child, I brought her downstairs to fetch her a drink, pushing to the back of my mind the incident until compelled to relate it here in the journal.  
Now as I sit here listening to the closing of the front door and Loki's laughter while the children surround him with cries of “Papa, Papa!” I'm left to wonder if I imagined the whole conversation with the old ghost. For the present though, my mind has shifted gears, led by my nose as the aroma of roast venison draws me away...until the next entry, then._

 

Sulyir tossed a handful of barley pearls in his mouth, chewing them slowly, his eyes following Neve as she wandered about the tavern cleaning tables. His interest was not in Neve but her actions. She would take her rag and wipe the table paying little attention to the task at hand, instead she would search the room until she found the other serving girl, Willa whom she would watch with thinly veiled hatred. When Willa would laugh at a patron's joke, or lean over and whisper in another man's ear, Neve would pause as if mesmerized until Willa moved on and Neve would frown, move to the next empty table.  
“How are we today, Sulyir?”  
Sulyir looked up to see Eris standing behind him, one hand on her hip, an empty stein in the other.   
“I am fair. I fear you cannot say the same?” he pointed to his bottom lip and she raised her hand to her own, brushing the scab while she kept a straight face. Every time she'd smiled this week the scab would split open and bleed again.  
“Ah this? I took an elbow to the face while dancing last week. Where have you been? I haven't seen you in a month.”  
“I was helping my employer ready his farm for the winter.”   
He smiled to himself as he recalled the old man's reaction at his request to sleep in the hayloft as the snows began to fall. He had reassured the man he would be quite comfortable and with a shake of his head, the old man had waved him up the ladder.  
“Well I'm no farmer. I'll take your word for it. Have things gotten any easier on the diet front?”  
Sulyir tilted his head, “Diet?”  
Eris rolled her eyes, “Are you eating any better?”  
“Ah,” Sulyir clapped his hands together, “I am in fact. The farmer's wife baked me barley bread and I found I was able to stomach it. I am also able to tolerate buttermilk which the farmer has in abundance.”  
Eris wiped his table down, “Sounds pretty dull.”  
Sulyir frowned, “It suffices.”  
Eris stopped, peered at him across the table, “So why don't you return to Muspelheim?”  
“I...cannot,” he ached to share his grief with someone but he couldn't yet bring himself to confide in the barmaid.  
“In trouble back home are you?” She mumbled, leaning lower to the table.  
Sulyir sat back, taken by surprise as Eris gazed up at him, “So am I. At least I will be when I show up again.”  
“Indeed. Are we not a pair?”  
Eris gave him a wan smile, “You don't know the half of it.”  
“I'm all ears.”  
But Eris shook her head, “Even if I had the inclination, I don't have the time right now. Maybe another night.”  
She stood up, her hands to her back with a groan, “Damn my bed.”  
Neve slipped up beside her with a cluck of her tongue, “Poor thing. I'll puts unguents on your back tonight.”  
Eris nodded as Neve grinned, hurried away with a tray of empty steins.  
“The drow acts rather strange tonight,” Sulyir mused, “Do you know why?”  
“Neve is strange all the time,” Eris picked up the empty stein from the table.  
“She watches the other barmaid constantly, there is hatred in her eyes.”  
Eris sighed, turned to watch Neve who was waiting at the bar for Willa to fill her tankards, “They don't really get along. Willa doesn't get along with anyone, actually.”  
Sulyir saw Eris's hand rise to touch her lip again and at once he knew. Willa was the reason for Eris's injury.  
“Excuse me,” Eris began to make her way between the crowded tables leaving Sulyir alone, struggling with his thoughts as he watched the ebb and flow of men and women through the tavern.

 

Loki held Brynn in his lap, glancing up at Stark as Doctor DeSalle wiped Brynn's arm with an alcohol swab.   
“Remember what we spoke of?” Loki whispered in Brynn's ear, “How brave you would be for me?”  
Brynn nodded though his face was ashen, his eyes locked on the stranger beside him, a bottle in his hand as he drew the serum into the syringe.  
“Okay,” Doctor DeSalle leaned over to Brynn, “You're going to feel a little pinch and it'll be all done before you can say ouch.”  
Loki saw the doctor's hands were trembling, “You have no need to be afraid, Doctor. Calm yourself.”  
The doctor gave him a shaky smile, “Of course...of course. Ready?”  
Brynn screwed his eyes shut and turned away, tucking his head beneath Loki's chin. As the needle pricked the skin of his arm, he drew a sharp breath through his teeth though he remained still until the doctor withdrew the needle.  
“Well done, young man!” Doctor Desalle set the syringe on the stand beside the divan and stood up as Brynn opened his eyes with a grin.  
“Well done indeed!” Loki enfolded Brynn in his arms, giving him a tight squeeze before the boy jumped down from his lap to sprint into the dining hall crying, “Mama, it is done! Come see!”  
Loki stood, offering his hand to the doctor who shook it heartily, “Thank you for coming here to my home,” he tilted his head toward Stark, “And thank you for bringing him. It would have been much harder to convince Brynn to return to the encampment.”  
Stark shrugged, “No trouble at all. Now we just have to wait for a half hour to make sure there's no reaction and we'll be off.”  
“Will you not stay for the evening meal?” Loki gestured to the dining hall as Eidra and Colin emerged, Eidra holding Brynn's hand.  
“We'd love to but I don't like to be away from my post for long,” Stark's countenance darkened, “Pepper gets anxious when she's left alone. We've only got a couple more days together before she has to return to Earth.”  
He had informed Loki a few days before that when the King traveled to Earth to bring Jane back home, Pepper would go with him. She certainly couldn't keep tabs on what was happening on Earth from Asgard. She was his first line of defense after all.  
Stark turned to Colin, “You've only got a week and some before you go home too. Spending Christmas with the family, huh?”  
Colin nodded, “Aye, I am that. Can't wait.”  
His monotone response wasn't lost on Stark who raised an eyebrow, “Calm down. It'll happen soon enough.”  
Colin stared at the floor, hands clasped before him but soon all attention was drawn to the foyer from where rushed Astrid, Cait, and Edie followed by Ingrid and Fen.  
“Did you get shot?” Astrid cried, hurrying over to Brynn, taking her twin by the arm and making him yelp.  
“Ow! Do not touch it, Astrid! I must wait for it to work.” Brynn yanked his arm from her grasp.  
“EEE! EEE!” Edie shouted, bending close to his arm though she kept her hands behind her back.  
“Children, do not smother him so!” Ingrid called, ushering them over to the adults, “Mind your manners.”  
“Fen you gotta stop growing,” Stark whistled, “You're going to be taller than your father you know.”  
Fen blushed pink though he seemed to swell proudly, “My mother would agree with you, Master Stark.”  
“Come let us repair to the dining hall,” Loki was herding them enmasse, “You have time for a bit of wine in the very least.”  
Stark rubbed his hands together, “Oh there's always time for that.”

 

Simon drew off his coat, draping it before him over his saddle. As they neared the border of Muspelheim, the weather had become warm and warmer still until he could no longer bear it. The mountains which had seemed small from such a distance two days past now loomed high overhead in a long ridge, pointing the way into Surtr's's kingdom.   
“They're immense, my God!” Simon shielded his eyes from the early morning sun, “Tell me we don't have to go mountain climbing.”  
Harmand shook his head. Twisting in his saddle, he pointed toward a great valley, “Not up, my boy, down. Do you see where those two mountains converge, those turrets rising above the trees? That is Surtr's's stronghold....or so I've been told,”  
Simon squinted hard, sure it was a trick of perspective that made the gray stone turrets seem to dwarf the trees surrounding it as Harmand twisted about in his saddle and gestured to the wide valley, “Pelinor do you think we can make the valley floor before sundown?”  
Pelinor took a spyglass from the pouch behind his saddle and opened it up. He was a thin, handsome young man, his long brown hair studded with braids each of which he claimed was done by a different maid from the village. He held himself in great regard though Harmand had taken him down a couple notches a few times along the trip when his pride threatened to overtake his good sense.  
Simon eyed the group while Pelinor surveyed the landscape. Besides himself, Wickett, Pelinor and Harmand, there were the two brothers, Mazov and Kara. Middling aged, they seemed less like brothers, more like dearest friends so well did they get on. So in harmony were they with one another, they would often finish each others sentences. In the village, they owned a well appointed shop where they sold nearly anything one could wish for, their stock bought on the road when they traveled through the realm trading. They were confirmed bachelors, sharing the living space above their shop with no company save their cat, Kensy.  
The only female who'd volunteered to come along _“Seeing as none of you could best me in a fight, you'll be needing a warrior to guard your flanks,”_ Tulla, was built as sturdy as an oak, the tallest of the group, covered in leather and armor plate, blond hair braided and plaited around her head, Simon couldn't get the song “Ride of the Valkyries” to stop playing in his head every time he looked at her.  
“If we get a move on now, yes,” Pelinor closed the spyglass and dropped it in his pouch, “We should make it by nightfall, but I recommend we strike camp before sundown so we will know our surroundings.”  
Spurring their horses forward, they started down the long slope to the valley floor, crossing from Alfheim into Musplheim, their destination slowly swallowed up by the horizon as they descended ever lower into the unfamiliar terrain.

 

Loki looked up from the tome in his lap to Eidra who was easing the bedchamber door shut.  
“Is he asleep?”  
“At last, yes,” Eidra draped her robe over the chair before her dressing table, “He kept repeating over and over, “Papa said I was brave. Was I not brave, Mama?” He is beside himself with anticipation for the morrow. Do take care with him.”  
Loki smiled, “I shall wrap him in our heaviest robes from head to toe.”  
“And you will remember to bring his medicine?”  
“Of course.”  
Before Doctor DeSalle arrived at the manor, Brynn had been sick with fear. Loki had taken him by the hands, promising him that if he bore the doctor's treatment bravely, as a young man should, he would bring him to the palace with him that next day and he was going to be as good as his word.  
Loki returned his attention to the tome while Eidra sat down upon the bed, kicking her slippers off her feet.   
“Brenna is not in her bed again tonight,” she sighed, slipping beneath the covers.  
“Mmm.”  
Eidra propped herself up onto her pillows, “Have you nothing more to say?”  
Loki read a few more lines, pursed his lips, considering his response, “Rest assured she is indeed in bed somewhere else.”  
Eidra sat forward, “Loki!”  
He cast a sidelong glance at her, “She is twenty seasons and more. A woman in her own right so you have said before. What would you have me do?”  
Eidra plopped back on the pillows, her arms crossed in front of her, “This from a man who less than a fortnight past was ready to send his daughter back to Midgard if such would keep her from Chase Wells arms.”  
“She will return to Midgard and to Chase Wells without my help.”  
At Eidra's gasp, he shut the tome, “Is it your wish I ride to the encampment to drag her from his tent? You have but to say the word.”  
Eidra frowned, her foot kicking the covers and Loki had to bite back a smile, “No, it is too cold, too late for you to venture out.”  
“The cold has never bothered me. I will be not long,” he threw the covers aside, ready to rise from the bed, felt her hand grasp the sleeve of his robe.  
“You shall not leave this chamber.”  
Loki looked over his shoulder at her, “Then I beseech you, tell me what answer will please you?”  
“None,” Eidra sunk into the pillows, “I am merely recalling what I was doing when I was her age.”  
Loki set the tome on the stand next to his side of the bed the bed and lay down beside her “If it please you, when she returns on the morrow, I will entreat her to refrain from spending the night at the encampment. If not for safety's sake, then for the family's reputation.”  
“You may try.”  
“Was it not you who advocated this reunion in the first place?” Loki patted her knee.  
Eidra groaned, put her hands to her cheeks, “Yes, yes but I did so for the sake of peace between you both. Oh why must the seeds of wisdom take so long to germinate within the young breast?”  
Loki molded himself to Eidra's side, “Wisdom must be carefully tended, watered, lovingly fed ere it is to blossom,” he nuzzled her chin, “Thank the gods I had a most beautiful, patient gardener.”  
A ghost of a smile played about her lips encouraging him as he took her hand in his, pointing it to the ceiling, “Shall I show you a new trick to coax your bad humor from you? _Lys vaere på min kommando, Følg stien jeg gjøre med min hånd.”_   
Before their eyes appeared a blue white dot. Loki touched Eidra's forefinger to it, drawing it across the air above their bed in a swirl which hung like a gossamer thread, casting a cool cerulean light upon their faces before slowly fading away. He let her hand go as she drew first a crude flower, a small castle, their names, giggling at the sheer joy of simple play as Loki joined in though his drawings were more to a boy's mind. A sword and shield, a simple horse and cart. Eidra lay there then, watching in wonder at the beauty of his quick sketches, graceful lines.  
“Why have you never put your drawings to paper?” she breathed, “they are a delight.”  
Loki snuggled closer to her, basking in her compliments though he half thought she gave them out of kindness. They lay there for a long time, drawing in the air, laughing, playing with the shapes, talking, coupling, as the worries of the world outside their bedchamber door faded from their minds with the ardor of their passion, their deep devotion, the strength of their love.


	62. 62

Eris's eyes flew open and for a moment she was disoriented. She peered about her bedchamber in the grey pre-dawn light, half expecting Alex to throw the door wide, hollering that the pigs were at the apartment door. At Perth's roar outside in the hallway, her situation came rushing back to her with heart pounding clarity.  
“Downstairs, the lot of ya! Where in Asgard is that drow? Neve!”  
The heavy thud of a fist against the door beside hers had her scrambling for the flint to light the lantern.  
“Cabel! Get you up! Now”  
Where was Neve? She'd been curled up at Eris's back when they'd fallen asleep. Eris gaped at her bedchamber door, the heavy planks dancing with shadows, bracing herself as the blows started to rain on the other side.  
“Eris, woman, open the door!”  
Eris fumbled for her robe from the foot of the bed, “Give me a minute to get dressed!”  
She worked the latch with trembling fingers, stumbling back from the door as Perth pushed it wide. Behind him, Eris could see two tall men dressed in burnished armor, long swords drawn.  
“Where is Neve?” Perth scanned the room, bent over to look beneath the bed, “Get yourself down to the tavern and no further, do ya ken?”  
“What's wrong?”  
Perth stared hard as if assessing her, “Willa's dead.”  
Eris felt rooted to the floor, adrenaline coursing through her body.   
“What the fuck happened?” she cried, willing her voice steady, “Dead how?”  
Perth glanced over his shoulder at the two guards filling the doorway, “Her throat was cut last night near as we can figure. Neve found her.”  
“How? Why? She was curled up beside me in bed to keep warm.”  
Perth pointed to the bed, “Well she's not there now is she. Come downstairs. We've questions for ya.”  
She didn't need to ask him to know she was their prime suspect. Without another word, she sidled past Perth, past the guards into the hallway and hurried to the landing where the tavern's patrons were making their way down the stairs.  
Once in the kitchen, she spied more guards. They were looking in every empty pot and pan, lifting chairs, opening cupboards. In the tavern proper, men in their nightshirts, women in their robes were assembled about the room talking amongst themselves.  
Eris caught Cabel's eye and was surprised to see resentment bold upon his face. She scanned the crowd, finally spying Neve secreted into one of the corner tables. At that same time, Neve spied her, jumping up from the table to rush toward her, catching her in a tight hug.   
“Willa is dead!” Neve hissed, “She had a man to her room the evening last, I tells Perth, surely he was the one did it.”  
Eris pushed Neve from her, holding her by the shoulders, “What made you get out of bed in the first place?”  
“I heard...a scream,” Neve smiled up at her as if pleased with her answer, “I finds the man gone and Willa dead.”  
And then Eris saw it. A fine spray of red droplets across the white plait hanging over Neve's right shoulder, so fine they were almost invisible, almost. Moreover, she realized Neve was now sporting her tan servant dress. When they'd retired for the evening, Neve had been dressed in a long green tunic.  
She gripped Neve's shoulder's harder, leaning down to look into her face, “Neve, what the hell did you do?”  
For a moment, Neve's countenance faltered then she smiled, “What you could not,” she glanced into the room, holding a finger to her lips, “But I puts them on the scent of the whore's patron.”  
“Damnit,” Eris whispered, taking Neve's braid and throwing it over her back, “I told you to stay away from her. I begged you. They're going to suspect me, don't you understand?”  
At Neve's blank stare Eris shook her, “Don't you ken? I was the one without an alibi.....Jesus, I had every reason to do it.”  
As Eris released Neve, realization spread across her dark face, her hands flying to her mouth.  
“Exactly. If we're really lucky, they'll believe your story. If they don't, I'm fucked.”  
Eris saw one of the guards talking to Perth nod toward her and all at once she groped for a chair to sit down in. She was going to be taken to the palace to stand before Thor where she would be accused of murder, deported back to Earth and put in a federal prison and that was the best case scenario if they didn't choose to hang or behead her then and there in front of the whole Asgardian court.  
She looked up to Neve once more, finding she had disappeared into the crowd. She could hardly blame the poor thing. Were she Neve, she would have been halfway across the realm by now.   
“Eris of Alfheim?”  
Eris gazed up at the guard who now stood before her, “Yes?”  
“You will come with us to the palace cells to await questioning by the High Council. You have been deemed a suspect in the murder of the serving maid Willa.”  
She rose unsteadily to her feet as the people parted ways for her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Perth, a hand over his mouth, his eyes upon her. Another guard before her opened the front door of the tavern. She thought of the books upstairs beneath her bed. What did they matter now? If she was to be discovered for what she was, the books were useless to her. As her foot crossed the threshold to land in the slush of the front step, a cry came from the back of the tavern.  
“It was I!”  
Eris stopped, turning along with everyone else to stare at the kitchen doorway where Neve stood, the bloodstained tunic draped over one arm, her dagger held high above her head.   
“Every day Willa tried her hardest to hurts the only friend I has ever had. She would call her names, spit at her, hit her and every day I wishes Willa would leave the Oak and Thistle,” Neve struck her chest with her fist, “Until my heart overflowed with hate then I watches for a chance to kill her. Eris is blameless!”  
The guards turned away from Eris, advancing across the room toward Neve who held out her hands in supplication. Eris wanted to scream at her to run but it was far too late. The guards had taken Neve by the arms and were now half walking, half dragging the poor girl around the tables toward the door. Eris stumbled to her, throwing a hand up to the guards who stopped.  
“Make way!”  
“Neve, why?”  
Neve flashed her sharp teeth, “Because her heart was black.”  
The guard took Eris by the shoulder, moving her to the side, “But why did you tell them? Why didn't you run?”  
“Because my heart is not,” Neve laughed, “Stay safe, my dearest friend.”

 

Eris sat at the corner table for a long time watching yet not really seeing as Perth and one of the guards brought Willa's shrouded body, along with the blood soaked straw mattress and linens, down the stairs and through the front door to the wagon waiting outside. She listened to the hushed voices of the patrons as they discussed the evening's event. Even Cabel left her undisturbed for the better part of the day until Perth took her gently by the elbow and guided her into the kitchen.  
“Go on upstairs and lay down. I'll take the night shift so's you'll be fresh come morning.”  
Laying in her bed, staring at the ceiling, she half expected Neve to come bursting into the room asking her whatever was the matter with her. Neve had given herself up to save Eris. No one had ever done that before. No one had cared enough about her. Even Alex, if she'd been faced with a murder rap, would have thrown Eris to the dogs. Neve had been the closest thing to a true friend Eris would ever have and now she was gone. Eris put her pillow over her face, screaming into it until her throat ached. She was alone again.

 

The shuffling footsteps passed Colin's bedchamber door again. Helgi was heading back down stairs, likely to fetch warm broth for Sally. Helgi had insisted upon tending to Sally who had as of late lost the strength in her legs to take the steps to the first floor. Colin surveyed the items on his bed that he was getting ready to pack to take home to his family. The Asgardian coin for his grandad, a set of carved silver chalices for Ma, wouldn't she look elegant as she sipped her evening sherry? A book written in Asgardian for Da. He wouldn't be able to read it but it would look good on the bookshelf at home, and what a story Da would have to tell people who came to visit.  
The stairs creaked again and Helgi's humming drifted by the door. Colin thought of Chris's visit. Should he broach the subject with Eidra? Better not. She'd come to him the day before with a serious look upon her face asking him whatever was to be done about Beth. Before he could ask what she meant, she moved closer to him and rubbed her stomach, her eyes wide.  
If Eidra was noticing, so were others. He was going to have to figure something out when he returned home for the holiday. There was little use pretending he wasn't aware of the situation and after apologizing about not being more forthcoming, he reassured Eidra he was working on it. At that point, Loki walked into the sitting room saving him from further vacillation though by her backward glance at him he could tell the issue was far from closed so upon further consideration, he decided he'd keep Chris's visit to himself. No reason to get her really worked up.  
The knock on his door made him jump, fumbling the tablet before it leaped from his hands.   
“Who is it? Bloody heck.”  
“It's me.”  
He groaned. It wasn't the fact that it was Beth. It was the fact that he was tired, just tired. He wanted to pack and rest then come downstairs and have a chalice of wine before supper, maybe chat with Loki if he were home by then.   
“Come in, I'm packing.”  
Beth opened the door and peeked into the room, “You sure I'm not disturbing you?”  
Colin forced a grin to his face, “No, yer fine. What can I help you with?”  
Beth stepped into the room, her hands folded before her, hiding a few sheets of folded parchment tied with a piece of twine.  
“Um, since you're going home for a few days, I was wondering if you could maybe mail this letter to my sister? I...i wrote her address on the outside of the paper but, well, they don't have a post office around here and even if they did, the postman would take one look and mark return to sender on it.”  
Beth giggled at her jibe though her humor swiftly faded as Colin took the letter and set it with his things.  
“I'll probably be home by the time she gets it though, I mean after all, you're going home to Ireland aren't you?”  
“Aye.”  
Beth ambled over to the bed, watching him set his clothes in the open suitcase, “So the letter will take time to make it to the states.”  
“It will.”  
He continued packing, securing the chalices between two layers of clothing, his ire growing at her silence until, with a loud sigh, he looked up at her, “And so tell me what Eidra said to you.”  
Beth wrapped her arms tight around her stomach, “Actually she took it rather well....I mean she didn't flip if that's what you're asking. She was standing in the kitchen, a cup of tea in her hand staring at me. I knew I couldn't hide it any longer. Then she said to me, something must be done. She didn't say what. Did she give you any idea?”  
Colin zipped the side of the suitcase shut, “No but I've an idea or two of my own.”  
Beth's face lit up and Colin felt sorry for feeling so irritated earlier.  
“What kind of idea?”  
Colin shook his head, “The less you know, the better. That way if I fail, you'll be absolved of having any part in it.”  
Beth looked down at her shoes, “Why don't I feel positive about this?”  
“Come now,” Colin lifted the suitcase and set it beside the table next to his bed, “I've the gift of persuasion, just ask me Ma.”  
When Beth squinted at him, he put his hand at her back, ushering her toward the door, “Yer going to have to trust my ability to bend people to me will.”  
“Like a super power?” Beth asked as the door closed behind her.  
“Something like that.” Colin leaned back against the door, making a mental note in his head to talk to Stark before he left for home. He was as good a place to start as any.

 

Sulyir watched Eris rush about the tavern for the better part of the evening, a nervous young woman trailing along behind her. When Eris reached his table to refill his mug, he was surprised to see she appeared drawn, only glancing his way when he greeted her directly. Gone was the only person he cared to talk to in this realm, in her stead was a bitter, sullen wretch.  
Two older men occupying the table beside him shook their heads as she walked away, steadying the tray the younger girl now hefted on her shoulder, admonishing her to walk straighter. He considered for a moment chalking it up to showing a new worker her job and suddenly it hit him. No Willa, no Neve. He'd been absent from the city for a few days, chopping wood, helping the old farmer mend one of the runners on his wagon. What would it hurt to ask around?  
He leaned over to the table beside him, jabbing a thumb toward where Eris now stood behind the bar with Perth watching the girl draw a tankard of ale.  
“Never seen her here before.”  
The old man closest to him grunted, “Oh aye, she was hired on yesterday ta replace the drow.”  
“And where did she get off to?” now Sulyir's interest was piqued. He turned in his chair to face them.  
“Have ye no' heard? The drow kilt Willa, cut her throat in her sleep she did. The guards took her away and she was garrotted.”  
Sulyir put a hand to his neck, looked over at Eris again, “She was here only a few days past. How could they both be dead?”   
The old man's companion took a long draught of his ale, “Justice is swift here in Asgard. I suppose it serves to put off other 'twould try the same.”  
Dead. Neve and the thorn in Eris's side, Willa. Both dead. It was a wonder Eris could go on at all. The drow worshipped her, had followed her around as if tied to her by a string.  
“And yet it failed to stop the drow,” Sulyir sat back in his chair.  
“There always be them what take that next step,” the old man shrugged, tapping his empty tankard on the table and yelling over the deafening hum of conversation, “Another round!”  
Eris was at the table in a moment, picking up both tankards. She nodded toward him, “You need a refill?”  
He put his hand over the top of his tankard and without another word she sailed away. He drained the rest of his ale and put the empty tankard down, feeling more out of place than he had in a long time. Setting a couple coin on the table, he stepped out into the night. As he walked along the city streets, he decided he would return on the morrow to talk with Eris. Small comfort though it was, he could at the very least listen to her laments. He took a deep breath of the refreshingly frigid air and continued on out of the city gates headed for the farm. He'd had enough of Asgard for the night.

 

Colin heard raised voices as he headed down the stairs that next morning. They were coming from the dining hall. He wanted to cross the foyer, open the door and tiptoe out to saddle Agathon but instead he took a sharp left, tiptoeing in the wrong direction for a worry free day. His grandad would surely be slapping his wrinkled forehead if he could see him now. _“Leave it alone, boyo, lest ye get yer ears boxed!”_  
He waved away the image of his grandad and stood there in the sitting room listening.  
“You told me a fortnight at the most. Now you want to stay for an entire moon?!” Loki cried.  
“Papa, when I return to Midgard for my schooling how long do you think I shall be gone then? Certainly far longer than a fortnight.”  
Colin sat down on the divan, willing his stomach to stop growling at the aroma of bacon and eggs wafting from the kitchen.  
“That is irrelevant now. Why must you be absent so long?”  
“Because Sophie will be on winter break for a whole month.”  
Silence.  
“What?”  
“Because your friend shall be free for the entire time, you too wish to be so? I recommend a fortnight as we agreed.”  
The divan cushions sunk beside him and he turned to look at Fen who'd just awakened, dressed in a rumpled tunic and breeches, his hair slightly askew.  
“Brenna?”  
Colin nodded.  
“She said she was going to ask Father about Midgard this morning. I would not cross between them for a new bow and a full quiver.”  
They sat there, their heads turned toward the dining hall.  
“I am quite old enough to change my plans, Papa.”  
“Of this I am well aware as you see fit to remind me so frequently. Whatever will your suitor do without you here?”  
“He is going to visit me. He asked for a hiatus to come to New York.”  
“Why? Perhaps he desires a bit more privacy than his tent?”  
“Ooooo! You vex me so! Why do you still see the little girl and not the woman?”  
“Why do you wish to cram your maturity down my throat as if I have not eyes to see how your bed lies empty most nights?  
“Father! I refuse to justify what you by rights gave me permission to do.”  
Colin and Fen looked at each other.   
“I did not give you permission to worry your mother incessantly nor did I give you leave to....,” Loki faltered, “...to be so promiscuous!”  
“Father! I am not a loose woman! I am devoted to one man! I cannot believe...”  
“Active then. How would you have me explain your nightly absences in front of your mother and siblings?”  
“I am an adult, Father. Nothing else need be said.”  
“And so I am Father when I say no to your request? Question your actions as is my right as a parent? You wound me most deeply.”  
Loki's voice had dropped now, become soft and Colin smiled as Brenna buckled.  
“Oh Papa, I was frustrated, can you not ken? I do not want to argue with you. I only wish to spend more time with my friends. What harm can there be?”  
“Very well....”  
“Loki...”  
Colin could imagine Loki with his hand held high before Eidra to stop her from saying anything further.   
“You may take the time you wish and no longer.”  
“Thank you, oh thank you Papa!”  
The sound of running footsteps made them both look up as Brenna raced through the sitting room past them, calling behind her, “Hello Colin...Worm...”  
The stairs groaned as she shot up them and they sat there, watched Loki stride past them, a scowl on his face. Colin half thought he hadn't seen them but as he reached the archway into the foyer, he pivoted about to stare at them.  
“Fen? Are you not coming to the palace with me this morn?”  
Fen jumped up from the divan, “Yes, Papa.”  
“Well then see that the horses are saddled.”  
Fen hurried past Loki with a backward glance at Colin who was now pushing himself to his feet.  
“And you are for the longhouses?”  
“Aye, I was just....I was headed to the kitchen...talking to Fen...I was distracted,” Colin gestured toward the kitchen, grimaced. Probably not the wisest move but Loki merely raised an eyebrow.  
“Indeed. My wife is in a bad humor...”  
As if on cue, Eidra's voice echoed through the sitting room, “Astrid, finish your porridge. I will brook no more questions this day!”  
Colin paused, turned and headed to where Loki stood, “I'll take my chances at the longhouse commissary.”  
“A wise choice,” Loki gave him a half smile as they hurried for the door.  
“I mean after all how long can she stay angry?” Colin laughed as they made the front doorstep, a serious stare from Loki making him whistle, “That long?”  
“You have no idea. Perhaps I should invest in a couple bolts of velvet for a new dress while I am in the city,” Loki sighed as they headed down the slushy road to the stables.  
“Make it three just to be safe,” Colin replied with a look back at the manor, quickening his pace.


	63. 63

“Stark, I can't hear you!” Colin called through the open door of the portal base as he gazed up at the diamond shaped gouge in the ceiling.  
“Follow the sound of my voice,” Stark lilted, “Enter and be enlightened.”  
Colin peered into the dark interior, saw the glint of a flashlight as it illuminated the narrow passageway framed by a jungle of wires and circuit boards.   
“Am I going to short something out if I touch it?” Colin eased himself into the passageway, keeping his arms tight to his body.  
“Naw.....ew wont urt anyfing.” Stark's voice came from deeper inside the base. Colin spied a blue white glow a few feet ahead, turned to his right around a corner and found Stark, flashlight in his mouth, working on a large panel spiderwebbed by a bundle of red cables.  
“Now dis..,” Tony nodded his head at the wiring, “Will sap you indo..thanks...will zap you into atoms if you don't respect it.”  
Colin, the flashlight now in his hand and directed at the panel, followed the path of the red cables as they rose to the ceiling of the base, disappearing into the maze of circuitry overhead.  
“Damn I wish Simon were here,” Tony muttered, moving one of the red cables to reveal a small door, “This is his baby. I mean I'm a genius, yes, but I let him have free reign on these portals and I hate to have to pick up the pieces when something goes haywire,” he opened the door, leaned into the panel behind it and took a small pair of tweezers out of his pocket, “Shine that light inside here will you?”  
Colin couldn't see what Stark was doing but a minute later there came a voice from the doorway.  
“Mister Stark? Whatever you just did, it worked! The inertial field is stabilizing!”  
“Okay, Sam! I'll be right out,” Tony turned to Colin and held the tweezers up into the beam of the flashlight, “The power to move between dimensions and all it takes is a beetle to put the kibosh on the whole thing.”  
Colin grimaced at the charred inch long bug pinched between the tweezer ends, “Might want to step up housekeeping.”  
Stark chuckled, shutting the panel, taking the flashlight from him and leading the way out of the base into longhouse two, “I think we're going to have to put new seals on that door, we tried to cool the interior by leaving the door open but well...you saw what happened. We're going to have to revert to the fans and keep the door sealed. Takes more energy from the solar cells but it can't be helped,” Stark stared up at the damage in the ceiling, “You should have seen that cube take off. I was sure it was going to go through that ceiling. Maybe it would have if Sam here hadn't been quick on the power button.”  
Sam, a bald middle-aged gentleman in gunmetal spectacles and a lab coat, smiled at Stark as he dropped the charred bug onto a cloth napkin on a small table, “And all because the inertial field failed in that quadrant. Come on, lets get back to my office and I can give you the month's reports.”  
They stepped out into the frigid morning air and hurried toward distant Longhouse one, nodding to passing agents, lab workers.  
“I've a favor to ask you,” Colin began, noting the wry look Stark shot him.  
“I gave at the office....what do you want?”  
“It's not me wanting the favor,” Colin nodded at a pair of agents, “I need a voucher to extend one of the group's stay here in Asgard.”  
Stark looked at him curiously, “And here I thought you'd be the next one.”  
Colin slowed his steps, “Next one what?”  
“The next one to defect.”  
Colin shook his head, “No one's defecting. She just wanted to stay a bit longer to continue her studies, fer fuck sake.”  
“She who?”  
“Beth Chapel.”  
“Oh, the college student,” Stark opened the door to Longhouse one, ushering him inside, “The heavyset bubbly one. What studies might they be?”  
“Asgardian foodways.”  
“She's in Destructo's household too isn't she?”  
Colin looked at the floor, “You don't need to call him that anymore.”  
“Fool me twice, shame on me,” Stark stopped, turned to Colin, “He is still Loki. Maybe he's not the god I watched lay waste to downtown Manhattan but the moment I let my guard down may be the moment I should have been on watch. I'll stop calling him Destructo but I won't let down my guard.”  
Colin put his hands in the air, “Fair enough, now what can you do for Beth?”  
Stark raised an eyebrow, “Is this a personal favor?”  
“What? No! ….God no!”  
Stark shook his head, tapped his temple, “No you're right, you've always been sweet on Brenna.”  
“Will you shut yer hole!” Colin hissed, “No need to broadcast it all over hell's half acre.”  
Stark opened the door to his office and sailed inside, heading straight for a cut crystal decanter placed center stage on his desk.  
“My reward for being a good boy. Care for a glass?”  
“Too early in the morning for all of me,” Colin dropped into the chair before Stark's desk, opening his satchel to draw out his tablet.  
“Suit yourself, more for me,” Stark filled a short heavy glass with brandy, handed Colin the micro drive and sat on the desk, “All the data for this quarter including and up to last night.”  
Colin took the drive, inserting it into the tablet, “So can you help Miss Chapel?”  
Tony shrugged, “Sure I can try. I can write a letter of recommendation that she remain for another...what six months?”  
Colin tapped the tablet, “Yeah sounds fair.”  
“But if they have too many questions, you'll be the one who has to sell it to the powers that be. Just because Fury might agree, don't mean the ones holding the reins are going to go along. I'll do it though. Maybe they'll consider it because of her research. After all, if they're looking to colonize this realm, they need all the intel they can get.”  
“I hate when you put it like that. Gives me the shivers,” Colin handed the micro drive back to Stark.  
“Sorry,” Stark slipped the drive into his front pocket, “I'm not going to lie, at least not to the people I like. You should know that by now. Besides, you've seen the prospectus, you know the plans.”  
Colin bit his lip. He did know what was coming and he couldn't do a thing about it.  
“Fine, give them a line of shite, only do it as soon as you can. I'm heading home on holiday to see my family and I intend to take the letter with me.”  
“I'll have it ready tomorrow. I'll send it post Chase,” he snickered, “See what I did there?”  
Colin tapped the tablet screen, ignoring Stark's jibe, “As long as it gets to me before the middle of next week.”  
“Hey, the King is due back tomorrow isn't he?” Stark jumped down to the floor, making his way to the office windows.  
“As far as I know. With Jane, I hope.”  
“Mmmhmm. He's going to be awfully put out if she opts to stay on Earth.”  
“I've one thing to say,” Colin slipped his tablet back into his satchel, “King Edward the eighth.”  
Tony glanced over his shoulder, “Oh come on, you don't think he'd abdicate the throne to stay on Earth with Jane do you?”  
“I don't know. With an heir on the way, he'd be a right idiot to do so but love makes a person do strange things, things he wouldn't do even fer kith and kin. That being said, I hope not,” Colin stood, stretched, “You'll have that letter for me then? Bury them in bullshit?:  
Tony drained his glass and winked at him, “Son, I work in bullshit like Van Gogh worked in oils. You'll have your stay of deportation.”

 

 

Simon watched Mazov and Kara build the pit for a small fire, grim looks on their bearded faces. They had set to their task merrily at first, singing a rousing tune in Gaelic with which Simon, during his travels through Asgard and Alfheim had now become fairly fluent. Harmand had at once silenced them, growling that they would surely give the party's position away were any sentries about.  
Now they set up the kindling, alternating with larger pieces of wood, from time to time giving Harmand a sour look.  
Wickett had been coaxed into accompanying Pelinor to find fresh water before the sun finally set altogether and so Simon availed himself of his free time to write in the one journal he'd brought with him, a simple green faux leather bound book he'd brought from home. It had been a housewarming gift from his elderly neighbor, Mrs. Bosch though he'd not thought to use it before he came to Asgard. As he opened it to the newest entry, he noted that the heavy thread securing the pages was beginning to loosen. He would need to secure them with sinew when he had the time. He took out his ballpoint pen, looked at it and sighed. The ink was nearly gone and this was his last one. He would have to find a quill and inkwell fairly soon. He adjusted his position against the log to which he was backed against, propped the journal on his knees and began to write.

 

_12/14/29  
Muspelheim_

_We have made camp, such as it is. The sun is just about set yet it still feels close to 29 degrees Celsius. We have walked in the shadows of the largest mountains I've yet seen, cut through dense foliage, wondered at the strange sounds of animals I dare not try to identify and pondered the safety of sleeping in crude tents lavishly accommodated by down pillow and bedroll.  
The journey into the valley was strangely uneventful save the aforementioned concerns, rather like descending into some skewered version of paradise. We passed immense waterfalls, some which made their own rain, from so lofty a height did they fall, forming bottomless pools with their relentless assault on the bedrock below. For a short time we followed a river, calm at first then quickly turning into rapids that would have capsized the sturdiest barge. We would catch glimpses of civilization every so often. An open expanse of field covered with grape arbors that must have been used to make wine, there could be no other explanation. Harmand said the Jotunn of Muspelheim were known for their fine vintage. We spied settlements about the valley though we stayed well clear of them. Some of the houses were gigantic (forgive the pun) even from a distance, others were of normal stature which gave me to question Harmand about the variety. He explained, as in any peoples, there were large and small, fat and thin and so on. Being short myself, I hoped to meet the exceptions rather than the rule first. When we stopped to camp for the evening, we chose a shelter of tall trees through which we could now see the distant castle of the Jotunn king Surtr. Pelinor figures we will reach the stronghold by midday tomorrow. Maybe then we can figure out our next move though I'm reluctant to discover just what it might be. Will we be turned out as complete nutters? Will they just hand over the rune elemental with a hearty handshake and a clap on the back? In my estimation, not likely. Will they lock us up like criminals and hold us for ransom? Perhaps they'll just run us through as intruders. If Lelia were here, she'd tell me I'm being irrational, that I should walk into the castle, head held high, announce my heritage and demand the rune elemental. She'd probably lead me by the hand herself.  
I miss Lelia. I miss her something terrible. She can be a bit of a shrew, I know, I know. Her acerbic tongue and her volatile temper give most people fits. They see her as obstinate, hard headed. What they fail to see are the unguarded times when she cries herself sick with worry for fear of failing us, or the sweet smiles she shares with me while we are spending quiet time together, the way she cares for me, fixing my meals, mending my clothes, telling me stories, legends, laughing at my sorry attempt at humor. The songs she hums to me at night to put me to sleep.   
Oh the sound of her voice.  
My sleep has been unsettled since we left Melos without her to send me to blissful slumber.   
Yes she is bull headed, strong willed but I would have her no other way. I miss her green eyes, her red gold hair, her playful mien, her softest touch, the way she gazes at me with unabashed adoration which I return with equal intensity. How sharply she scolds me when I am at odds with myself, the undeserved praise she heaps upon me when I have done a job well.   
If upon my return to Asgard, I am faced with returning to Earth, I will refuse. If need be I will run with Lelia and never stop running until I am sure we are safe. I would rather be here in the meanest lands with her than on Earth, a hero, alone.  
Our supper is ready, God save me from the relentless abundance of rabbit in these realms. I am ravenous for a haunch of venison or a roast of beef but smallest animals are the easiest to catch with the least noise so I am resigned to it. I will write when next I can..._

_Simon_

 

Loki stared about the foyer, bathed in gray moonlight. The other rooms were dark as well, the whole household asleep and it was only reasonable that he too should retire for the evening. His hand slid up the railing, feeling the silken smoothness generations of rubbing had produced.   
As he reached the second floor landing, he could see a blue white glow coming from the open door to the room Sally and Helgi now shared as Sally had become bedridden. He started forward, his hand outstretched before him but it seemed to take so long to reach the door. When he at last arrived, he looked inside to see Sally's bed empty, Helgi sitting in a chair beside it.  
“They went across the hall, you must hurry to catch up with them.”  
Loki glanced over his shoulder at the dark hallway, “Catch up with whom?”  
When he turned again to Helgi, she had disappeared. He pivoted about to see the gray light at the open door of the twins room, fear spurring his feet to move at the same maddeningly slow pace until he reached the doorway and peered inside. Astrid lay curled up in a ball, a doll clutched tightly to her chest. Brynn's bed, however, lay empty, the covers mussed as if he'd risen in haste. Loki rushed up to his bed, grabbed for the coverlet and his fingers closed about the handle of his crossbow..  
He gazed about at the forest, looked down at the hand holding the crossbow out to him and he smiled.  
“Come on lad,” Chris patted him on the arm, “We'll have an empty hearth tonight if we don't run that buck down.”  
His heart pounding, Loki started to run after Chris, following him as he turned one way, then the other through dense brush, between boulders, around trees. Every once in a while, Loki would catch a glimpse of the stag, leaping high in the air, keeping ahead of them. He could see the bloom of blood on the stag's right shoulder blade. If he could only stop to draw a bead on him, he could drop the animal for certain.  
“Let me take aim, Chris!” Loki called, slowing.  
“D'ya think you can boy?”  
Loki watched the stag, saw the clearing it was headed for and nodded, “Come with me. Make that musket ready should I miss.”  
“Which you will not,” Chris half gasped half laughed, “Go on then.”  
Loki dug his toes into the soft forest floor, racing between the trees, making the clearing and dropping to one knee, crossbow up to his shoulder.  
The stag was gone.  
He scanned the clearing, recognition dawning upon him as he saw the cairn of his stillborn son, Silas, Chris's cairn right beside it. He tilted his head. There were two more cairns. Had the family who moved into their old cottage built them for their loved ones?   
Loki stood up and started for the cairns, stopped. Where was Chris? He'd been behind him. Loki turned around to see Chris standing there, musket at his side.  
“Go on, my son. Take count.”  
Loki looked again at the cairns now before him, “I see four where there were but two. Why?”  
“My Sally is now with me on the other side. The last cairn has yet to be filled....oh my boy..,”  
Chris put a hand over his mouth and all at once Loki saw Brynn's empty bed again. He dropped to his knees before the cairns and started to yank the stones away.  
“Where is my son? Where is Brynn! Where is Brynn! WHERE IS BRYNN?!”.... 

“......Loki!”  
Loki's eyes flew open, the light from the lantern in Eidra's hand blinding him momentarily. He sat up, feeling about the coverlet, sure he would find his crossbow beside him.  
“You were crying in your sleep,” Eidra put a hand to his cheek, “You were calling to Brynn.”  
The vestiges of the dream flowing back to him, he stumbled from the bed, snatching his robe from the chair as he rushed out into the hallway, Eidra close behind.  
“Loki, the gods wept! What is wrong?”  
Loki threw open the door to the twins bedchamber, grabbing the lantern from Eidra's hand. Astrid lay in the same position in his dream, clutching her rag doll though now she began to stir. Brynn lay sprawled in his own bed, mouth wide open, a carved monkey in his open hand. His stomach felt hollow, cold as he started for Brynn's bed, willing his son to waken. As he bent over Brynn, his hand hovering above the boy's chest, Brynn snorted, turned over on his side, the monkey abandoned in the bed beside him.  
“Loki,” Eidra whispered, gently taking the lantern from his hand, “My heart, are you well?”  
“I dreamed of Chris....,” Loki reached down, brushing Brynn's hair from his face, comforted in the warmth of his cheek, “Of..not being able to find Brynn.”  
“All is as it should be, my love. Come back to bed,” Eidra took his hand but he was reluctant to leave Brynn's side.  
“Mama?” Astrid mumbled, “What is wrong?”  
“Nothing, my little sparrow,” Loki strode to her bedside and cupped her face in his hands, “I wanted merely to check on you and your brother, to see if you were warm enough.”  
“We are warm, Papa,” Astrid lay back down on her pillow with a yawn.  
“So you are,” Loki pulled the coverlet up to her chin, “Go back to sleep.”  
She needed no prompt for she was already closing her eyes.  
As Loki closed the door behind them and turned about, he was met with Helgi's worried face illuminated in the lantern light. Across the hallway, her bedroom door stood open, the gray moonlight from their windows washing the room in blue gray light and Loki felt his stomach flip flop again.  
“I heard you in the hallway and rose to check on Sally.....oh, Eidra. I think she has gone to be with Chris.”  
They rushed into the bedchamber where Sally lay, arms at her side, lips parted slightly, her eyes half lidded.   
“Helgi, keep Eidra there,” Loki set the lantern on the bedstand beside her and lay his ear to Sally's chest as he heard Eidra give a breathy squeak. He waited, waited for as long as he could before he stood up, turned and took Eidra into his arms, holding her as she sobbed against his chest.  
“Hel...Helgi...ge...get Brenna and Fen. they will want....to know.”  
“Of course, poppet,” Helgi hurried from the room.  
“Is it selfish of me... to have wanted....her to stay..... a b..bit longer?” Eidra hiccuped, burying her face into the silk of his robe.  
“No, my love. I raged against the realms when you were taken, when Chris left my side. 'Tis most unfair but if the gods be good, they are together now.”  
Eidra nodded, “It must be for no other ending will suffice.”  
Brenna appeared at the doorway followed by Helgi, Fen and a bleary eyed Colin.  
“Mama!”   
Eidra turned to Brenna, comforting now as she had been comforted, “There, there, hush now,”  
she took Brenna's hands rubbing them between hers, “Thank the gods she slept away.”  
Brenna nodded though tears lay heavy on her cheeks, “I know Mama though it has robbed us of goodbyes. Oh poor Aunt Sally.”  
Fen stood silent beside Loki, his face somber as Loki put a hand on his shoulder.  
Colin sidled past the group up to the bed where Sally's body lay. He had considered checking for a pulse when he entered the bedchamber but found no need as he watched Chris help a shaken Sally rise from the edge of the bed where she had been sitting.  
Chris looked at him and smiled, “ 'Twould seem the soul goes where it will regardless of what it believed in life. Tell them Sally is with me,” Chris gazed at a bewildered Sally, “...when it is appropriate to do so.”  
Colin winked at him and pivoted about to find Loki staring at him with a forlorn look upon his face.  
“Is all well?”  
Colin glanced over his shoulder but Chris and Sally had faded away.  
“According to those in the know, yeah,” Colin clasped his hands before him, uneasy at the memory of Chris's last visit.  
“So be it. Fen, fetch Ingrid. Tell her what has happened and ask her to come as soon as she is able. The women will need help.”  
Loki retreated to the hallway, Colin and Fen right behind him.   
“Make all due haste,” Loki handed the lantern in his hand to Fen who hurried down the stairs, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his nightshirt.  
“I envy you your gift, Colin,” Loki sighed, watching over the bannister as Fen threw his cloak on in the foyer, “Have I told you so?”  
“I think you have, yer Highness.”  
“Mmm, will you help me start a fire in the sitting room? It promises to be a long day.”  
Together they descended into the early morning gloom of the manor as the women began their sad chore.


	64. 64

The sun had not yet dawned on the next day when Loki and Colin hitched the horses to the wagon in preparation for the ride to Rialo with Sally's remains. Loki had invited Colin to accompany the small party consisting of himself, Eidra, Helgi, Fen and Brenna. Colin had accepted, full of the import which such an invitation imparted.   
“I have seen enough of death this season to last me until the end of time,” Loki tightened the strap below Agathon's belly, “I held Eidra all night, so distraught was she.”  
Colin tossed a bale of hay up onto the back of the wagon, picked up another, Chris's visit in the back of his mind, “ It's the way of the world, sad to say.”  
Eidra emerged through the open front door, her cloak wrapped tightly against the cold as she made her way to the wagon with an armful of blankets.  
“Lay them all over the bales and on the floor. I have furs for our legs and pans ready for coals. We shall be warm enough.”  
From inside the house came the plaintive wail of one of the children, followed by Ingrid's soft but stern voice, “You cannot go this time, we will keep ourselves amused today.”  
Colin spied Edie standing there in the doorway making the sign for sad. Colin nodded, pointed to himself. Edie was so very much smarter than anyone knew. She missed nothing.  
“Are we ready then?” Loki kissed Eidra on the forehead as he passed by her headed for the manor.  
“I believe so,” Eidra climbed into the wagon bed to straighten the blankets Colin was laying down.  
Out the front door came Silas, Gunnar, Fen and Loki, supporting, in a linen sheet, Sally's shroud wrapped body. Gently, they laid her on the floor of the wagon and stepped back.  
“Are you sure you do not need me, Milord? Rialo is far to travel without protection.”  
Loki waved Silas's concern away, touching the sword at his hip, “We will be safe, rest assured and also will we be late if we do not start out soon.”  
Loki headed for the house while Colin leaned against the wagon, elbows on the gate watching Eidra set rolled blankets around Sally's body as if making her comfortable for the journey ahead.  
“She's with Chris you know,” Colin murmured, glad of the fleeting smile she gave him.  
“She kept saying she missed him so terribly, especially as of late...,” Eidra paused, her hand on Sally's shoulder as she gazed down at her covered face, “I recall many, many seasons past asking Loki if he feared death.”  
“And did he?”  
“Of course not,” she sat back on her heels, “ I myself was terrified, wondering whether I would see my loved ones again if they passed before me though at that time I was not so enlightened as I am now.”  
Colin glanced over his shoulder at the doorway of the manor. Had Loki told her of his ability to see the dead? Probably not. Perhaps it was just as well, still he wanted to ease her troubled mind.  
“I believe we will see those who go before us when we follow them on their path.”  
Colin turned to look up at her and found her staring directly at him, “You may be sure of it. 'Tis the crossing over that frightened me the most.”  
For a moment, Colin wondered if Eidra was still in shock but before he could ask her what she meant, Loki was at his side with Brenna and Fen helping Helgi climb up into the wagon bed.  
“You will ride up here with me,” Loki motioned to Colin from the wagon seat.  
“As you wish, yer Highness.”  
They were soon headed for the main road, the runners making a sibilant hiss on the hard packed snow.

 

They made Rialo early that afternoon, stopping at Ren's cottage to deliver the news. She shuffled out to the wagon, tears coursing down her cheeks as she pressed her forehead to Sally's feet.   
“I saw her. I saw her in a dream a few days past. She told me she was coming home but oh I thought not like this....not like this!” Ren took Eidra's hand, “Poor child. Not a day passed but she did not think of you, sending her prayers to her gods for your continued happiness.”  
Eidra couldn't bear to leave Ren behind as they traveled to their old cottage so room was made in the wagon. After a brief stop at the home of Sylvan and Moran to beg their help they continued on.  
When they finally reached the cottage, Edmund was outside the stable, a pitchfork in his hand.  
Loki jumped down to the ground, waving to Edmund who set the pitchfork against the stable wall and hurried down the path toward them.  
“Your Highness!” he called, “Welcome. LILITH!”  
Lilith appeared in the doorway at once, “Edmund, the gods wept, whatever are you bellow....oh dear,” and at once she had dropped into a low curtsy, “Your Highness. I had no idea you were here. Birte! Put the kettle over the fire!”  
Eidra climbed down from the wagon to join Loki slipping her hand into his, squeezing it as they beheld their old home.  
“Ah we would welcome a warm mug of cider but first we have a task to do of which we beg your leave. Our friend and yours,” Loki gestured to the wagon, “Sally has passed.”  
Lilith gasped as Edmund, hands clasped to his chest, approached the wagon and gazed up at Ren, “Your dream came true, little grandmother.”  
Ren nodded, “More's the pity.”  
Edmund turned to Loki, “I will fetch my pick axe,” he tilted his head to Sylvan and Moran who had dismounted from their horses, “Boys, follow me to the tool shed. We've work to do.”

 

Colin waggled his fingers at Birte who promptly hid behind her mother's chair, peeking over the back at him. In the clearing, while they'd worked the frozen ground beside Chris' cairn with their tools, she'd stood with her mother, staring at him most often. More than once Lilith had begged his forgiveness, remarking that Birte was all of four seasons yet and possessed of a curious mind.   
Now, in the comfort of their cottage, Lilith had given up her effort to instill good manners in her young daughter and Colin couldn't help but wonder if the toddler knew he was not of this realm.   
“It is well that she slept her life away,” Edmund murmured, hands clapped around a mug of warm spiced cider, “What more could we want for our own mothers, daughters, sisters?”  
“Was there anyone else who so deserved such a peaceful end?” Ren nodded in agreement, “Not in all the realms. 'Tis a balm to our sorrow to know how very well she was cared for in your home, Eidra.”  
Eidra gave Ren a sad smile, “She had all she needed by the grace of my husband.”  
The group looked to Loki who had been staring into the fire crackling at the hearth and it was a long moment before the silence in the common room brought him about to sit forward in his chair.  
“Do forgive me. My mind is elsewhere occupied.”  
Eidra reached over to place a hand on his knee, “I said Sally was well taken care of by the good grace of my husband.”  
“....and by the wise council of my wife to be sure,” Loki drained the mug in his hand, setting it upon the hearth, “Edmund, in caring for the cairns of my family you have done me a service I cannot hope to repay..”  
Edmund sat straighter in his chair, his countenance proud, “It is an honor, your Highness.”  
“An honor indeed, “ Lilith echoed as Loki stood up, offering Eidra his hand, “Will you not honor us further by staying the night? We have extra pallets and blankets...”  
“Nay, I would be home with my youngest children by the morrow. They remain even now with their nursemaid and the servants only. Your hospitality is most appreciated.”  
Birte had now climbed into Brenna's lap for the sole reason that Brenna sat beside Colin at the long table which dominated the common room. When Colin rose to help Helgi from her chair and Brenna stood Birte on her feet, she ran to Colin and took his hand, staring up at him with her dark blue eyes.  
“Birte!” Lilith drew the toddler away from him, “You have taken Birte's attention, Master Denehy. She is more often quite shy.”  
Colin winked at the little girl as he offered Helgi his arm, “It's no trouble. She's a dear.”  
They filed out into the dusk lit dooryard, piling into the wagon with heartfelt goodbyes and after leaving Ren at her cottage with a promise to return soon, they again headed north toward home.  
More than once Colin caught himself nodding off, lulled by the silent swish of the runners, the hypnotic swaying of the lantern hanging on the pole between the horses, . When he turned to Loki, he found him in the same predicament, the reins limp in his lap.  
“Oi,” Colin elbowed him, “We're not careful, we'll be riding up to the palace gates before long.”  
“Indeed,” Loki stretched, yawned, peered into the back of the wagon where the others sat covered in their robes, fast asleep.  
“Do you want I should take a turn at the reins, yer Highness?”  
Loki sat up straighter, “No, I have ridden far further on less sleep than such as this.”  
They rode in silence a bit further until Loki cleared his throat, “I had a most grievous dream the evening last when Sally passed.”  
“Did you now?”  
Silence.  
Colin waited, not wanting to prod him any further until Loki grunted, “I had a vision of empty beds, one being Sally's and now she lies beneath the earth with Chris but also did I dream of my youngest son's bed, empty too, only when I awoke and rushed to his side, all was well with him. Could the empty bed mean something less dire, something altogether different?”  
_“I see death all around me,”_ came Chris' ethereal voice in his head, _“The family will be divided as it has never been before, its heart torn asunder.”_  
“They're dreams, nothing more, yer Highness.”  
“I have been raised to believe our dreams speak to us. True they are often cryptic but they mean something, whether it be an omen of things to come or a manifestation of whatever troubles you.”  
Colin pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders and shivered, “Then perhaps seeing Brynn's bed empty is speaking to yer concern over his condition, yer fear for his safety.”  
Loki's head came up as he stared beyond the lantern light to the road ahead, a slow smile rising to his lips, “Yes....yes! It must be,” he turned to Colin, “My friend, you have made me see reason once more, eased my troubled mind. My heart breaks when e’er I watch Brynn struggle so to breath. Were it I could take his suffering to myself, I would. You have my gratitude yet again!”  
Loki reached his arm out to Colin who did likewise, Loki gripping his forearm tightly, “Thank you!”  
Agathon snorted loudly as they both looked up. The turn to the manor was a few yards distant.  
“Eidra,” Loki called over his shoulder above the jangle of the harnesses, “We are home.”  
“Mmmmgood,” came her reply, “I am sore from tip to tail.”  
They turned right, into the long drive and at once Colin was uneasy. The windows of the manor house were ablaze with light.   
“It is well past midnight,” Loki looked up at the star filled sky, “Whyever are the lanterns lit? Everyone should be abed at this hour.”  
Colin gripped the armrest of the wagon. What if he had reassured Loki everything would be alright with Brynn just to come home and find him gravely ill or worse? He felt his stomach do a flip flop as they spied the horses tied up at the front of the manor.  
“My brother is here? Odin's beard, something is wrong!”  
Before they brought the wagon to a full halt, the door had opened and Eldred came running out to take the reins of the wagon.  
“Milord, His Majesty the King, Queen Jane, and Master Stark have been waiting for you to return,” Eldred bowed low as Loki jumped down to the ground.   
“Help the ladies from the wagon with all due haste. I must see what it is troubles my brother that he comes to my home in the middle of the night.”  
Colin stepped down from the wagon and hurried to the back where Eldred was taking Brenna's hand as she climbed from the wagon bed. Colin offered Eidra his own hand which she graciously accepted, then again to Helgi though Fen had to steady her from the opposite side.  
“I do hope whatever is wrong, 'tis not serious,” Eidra murmured as they rushed to the front door and swung it wide.  
In the sitting room, Colin could see Ingrid talking with, of all people, Lily and he thought he was going to be sick. Something was more than wrong. Thor and Stark stood talking with Loki. When they heard the door open, they all turned to look at him.  
Colin walked into the sitting room, nodding to Lily who smiled sadly at him.  
“Yer Majesty, Mister Stark.”  
Loki's gaze had dropped to the floor, “Colin, the King and Queen arrived back on Asgard this morning with grave news to deliver.”  
In his head, Colin could hear the whole spiel, _“You're out of the program. You made a total cock up of the whole job. The shite with Beth, the whole ancient Protector crap. You're done, son.”_  
Thor strode over to him, laying a hand on his shoulder and Colin could feel the power in even such a gentle touch.   
“Master Denehy, before we were to leave Jane's parent's home for Asgard this morning, we were visited by agents from the office of S.H.I.E.L.D with a message for you. Your grandfather Denehy has passed on...,”  
Colin barely heard Thor's condolences. He felt overwhelmed with grief, ecstatic that he wasn't being hauled off to a desk job in Belfast. His grandad, gone? He thought of the Asgardian coin upstairs in his trunk and all at once, his throat began to sting as he fought the rising tide of tears. Not here, not in front of God and everyone.  
“....truly sorry. Our express sympathies go with you. Please convey our profound sorrow to your family.”  
“Go upstairs and get packed, Denehy,” Stark clapped him on the back, “Your vacation's started early.”  
Colin rushed upstairs to his room willing from his mind Chris's words, Loki's strange dream and all other thoughts save getting home to see his parents. It was going to be a sad Christmas.


	65. 65

Colin cast a glance over his shoulder but Brenna, after a giving Colin a tight hug, had already stepped back through the portal made by the Uruz, the doorway winking out of existence behind her. He fingered the band on his right wrist with a sigh.   
_“Just press your thumb on the pad and the portal will open for you,”_ Stark had told him as he fastened the band on Colin's wrist at Longhouse One, _“Go home and help your parents sort everything out, then take a break, that's an order. Getting burnt out isn't going to do you any good.”_  
He'd sent word to his father he'd be at Helen's Bay train station before the eleven-thirty train. At night in the right spot no one would be there to see them appear out of nowhere He'd opted for the station instead of stepping into the living room and frightening his mother out of her wits. In fact, he had told Stark he would be entirely fine walking out of a stall in the Gents room at Belfast International but Brenna was adamant Colin allow her to bring him home, deeming the Uruz a more covert option than the Bifrost.  
The blue white light hanging over the bench on which he now sat cast a sterile glow over the cement of the train platform. He shivered, hunched forward over the trunk, his hands tucked into his armpits. In Asgard the snow was cold enough but here the cold dampness dug its way through to the very marrow.  
“Fecking Christ,” he muttered to himself, “I'm freezing me arse off.”  
Headlights behind him cast his shadow across the rails. He twisted around on the bench, shielding his eyes from the glare with his hand, heard the sound of a car door opening.  
“Colin?”  
Colin stood up and waved, “Aye, turn yer brights down, Da.”  
His father reached into the car and dropped the headlights, leaving the parking lights on to silhouette him as he came bounding up the platform stairs to wrap Colin in a hearty hug.  
“It's good to have you home, son,” he stepped back to regard the trunk, “Is this all the luggage you have?”  
“It is.”   
Immediately Quinn Denehy bent forward to take the handles of the trunk but Colin waved him off, “Yer mad if you think yer gonna carry this behemoth alone. Take one handle, I'll take t'other.”  
Together they eased down the steps to the parking lot toward the passenger side of his father's old Corolla where he opened the side door.  
“We might could put the trunk in the trunk you know,” Colin cocked a thumb at the rear of the car.  
“Nonsense, It'll...uhn...fiiiit,” his father leaned hard against the trunk, sliding it into the back seat and shutting the door, “Get in. Yer Ma's probably pasted herself to the kitchen window watching for us.”  
Colin dropped into the passenger side and smiled to himself. Electric and solar cars had become more the rule rather than the exception since he'd finished school. Speed Charge plugs were positioned right beside the pumps at each petrol station kept in business by people like his father who still drove the 2006 dinosaur.  
“When are you gonna upgrade, Da?” Colin patted the dashboard of the Corolla.  
His father clicked the seat belt into place with a grunt, “When I can't get the parts for it any longer.”  
They reversed out of the parking space and were soon on the road home. They made small talk for a few minutes, his father saying how glad he was to have him home, Colin agreeing. Colin promising to give him the details of his assignment when they were home so he'd not have to tell the same tale twice until finally his father heaved a heavy sigh.  
Colin closed his eyes, put his head back against the head rest, “What happened?”  
Quinn shrugged, “What's going to happen to all of us in the end, more's the pity.”  
“Da, you know what I mean. Did he go in his sleep?”  
“His heart gave out,” a smile played about Quinn's face, “The nurse was giving him a sponge bath at the time.”  
Colin fought it for as long as he could but when his father began to chuckle, he broke out into a fit of giggles.  
“Oh fer chrissake's, yer serious? He was having his meat and two veg fondled by the day nurse and it blew his ticker?”  
“Aye, Da always had a soft spot for a girl in a uniform.”  
The Corolla weaved back and forth across the center line as they started to roar. As fortune would have it, they weren't far from the house, pulling into the dooryard moments later. Quinn shut off the engine and they sat there, hands over their mouths.  
“If we go inside laughing, yer Ma'll hide us for sure. She doesn't find the humor in it. Me, I think yer grandad is up there in heaven laughing right along with us.”  
Colin stepped out of the car and stared up at the clouded night sky, “Oh he is that.”  
“Colin!!”  
Colin held his hands in the air, waiting for his mother to reach him which she did, wrapping her arms tightly about him.  
“My baby boy! My darlin'. We've missed you something terrible!”  
“I've...missed you too, Ma...let me breath now would you?”  
“C'mon Mary, let the boy get into the house afore we catch our deaths out here,” Quinn put his hands at her waist, dancing her out of the way.  
They wrestled the trunk out of the back seat and carried it up the walkway into the two bedroom house on Sheridan drive, setting it down just inside the doorway as Mary shoved her way past them.  
“I've boiled dinner waiting on the cooker, sweetheart,” she called as she hurried through the archway into the kitchen.  
“Thankee kindly,” his father replied with a chuckle as she stuck her head around the corner.  
“You can fend fer yerself, ya right tool! I was talking to our son.”  
Colin snickered as she disappeared again, “Da, stop baiting her.”  
“Not a chance,” Quinn shook his head, hanging his jacket on the coathanger, “How else am I supposed to get me jollies?”

The clock in the bedroom read nearly one a.m when Mary Denehy finally consented to let her son turn in. He was grateful for the late night dinner she'd kept for him and her avoidance of the true reason he was home early but the mountain of questions he'd had to field in trade had worn him down. She had been particularly interested in how he was getting along with his host family, prodding him as to who they were, what they did for a living even though he tried to explain that he couldn't reveal their identities for reasons of security though he allowed they were very highly regarded in Asgard. This seemed to soothe her a bit.  
“My boy is taken well care of. That's all I need to know,” she'd patted his hand, smiled, “And this'll be all behind you soon enough. You'll be home safe before long.”  
He returned the smile with as much happiness as he could muster. Of course she wanted him home, he was far more than a phone call away but if he was thinking of remaining on Asgard, they would have to reconcile themselves to that fact. Perhaps he could convince them to visit with proper permission. He doubted they'd elect to stay on long though Ma would want to be nearer him. In any case Da enjoyed his telly and junk food too much to leave off them entirely, uproot himself and move to the middle ages.  
Da had asked him to come along to the nursing home the next morning to clean out Grandad's closet, explaining that there were things Grandad had made him promise to deliver to Colin when he passed on. As hard as it would be to walk into his room at the home and not find Grandad there, Colin agreed to go.  
He lay there in his bed a long time trying to read over his journal but that just made it worse as he found his mind traveling far afield back to Asgard, wondering how the children were getting on. What were Loki and Eidra doing at this moment?   
The sound of a car horn outside made him jump. When it came again, he was tempted to get out of bed, throw the window wide and give the offender an earful. Instead he covered his head with his pillow. Tomorrow after they'd done their chore at the home, he'd take the Corolla and drive out to the bay, his favorite place to sit and sort things out. He closed his eyes in an effort to pretend he was in his bed in Asgard but it was no use. He turned over on his back and sighed, acutely aware of how foreign Earth now seemed to him. Regardless of his troubled thoughts, however, fatigue at last won over and he was soon asleep, buoyed up by dreams of taking the evening meal on a late summer afternoon with Loki and his family seated outside under the sprawling oaks which dominated the edge of the yard before the fields. He smiled in his slumber, contentment plain upon his face.

 

Pelinor held a hand in the air causing the line of horses behind him to grind to a halt quite suddenly.   
“Christ,” Simon muttered, “Could you not warn us next time?”  
Pelinor shot him a dire look, pointing to a clearing ahead of them.  
Simon brought his horse even with Pelinor, the others doing the same. In the clearing stood a group of what seemed to be children. Their size varied but all were red of skin and had dark hair.   
“Velos.”  
“What say you?” Harmand whispered.  
Simon gestured to the children now laughing as they ran after each other, “Nothing...nothing ah, I'm simply trying to reconcile the unassuming young man I met at the palace with these....  
“Giants?” Harmand finished for him.  
“For want of a better word, yes...”  
A great thud shook the earth at their feet, drawing their attention to the clearing where they looked into the face of a young boy, the largest member of the group who now stood stock still staring at them.  
The boy scrambled to his feet, stumbling backwards though he could have wiped them from their horses with one pass of his hand, turned and started to run, calling to his comrades in a language Simon didn't recognize. The meaning, however, was clear.  
“We'd better ride on. They'll know we're on our way now,” Harmand kicked his horse forward.  
“Let's hope they're happy to see us,” Simon added, hearing Mazov laugh behind him.  
“Let's _pray_ they're happy to see us.”

 

It was well after the midnight hour, the regular patrons stumbling home along the torchlit streets. Perth hefted those few who had passed out at their tables, over his shoulder to toss them out onto the slush covered doorstep while Eris cleaned the tables after the new girl, Sigur, cleared them of empty tankards and dirty plates.  
Sulyir set his empty tankard down, dropping a coin beside it as he lifted his cloak from the back of his chair. For the past fortnight, Eris had been quiet, exchanging few words with him. It seemed as though she'd drained herself of all emotion, lost interest in any interaction save the daily working of the tavern. Even her dancing appeared wooden, practiced.  
As she passed by his table, she glanced at him, her face pale, gray circles beneath her eyes, lips set in a grim line though they wavered into a half smile when he nodded to her and so he sat back down to wait her out.  
Perth helped another patron struggle to his feet, eyed Sulyir but he ignored the bristling tavern owner. Perth was the last Asgardian Sulyir would be afraid of if ever he sought to make Suyir leave the Oak and Thistle. After another couple minutes, Eris approached his table, handing his tankard to Sigur, dropping the coin into the pocket of her dress.  
“You look tired, Eris,” Sulyir murmured when she leaned over the table to wipe the damp ring left by his ale. She stopped, hands on the table, her dark hair falling over her shoulder to obscure her face. Sulyir canted forward to look up at her, surprised to see a tear drop to the table.  
“Will you not sit down and talk with me?”   
“The tavern is closing for the evening,” she stood up, pushing her hair back from her face as she made to walk away.  
“Are we not friends?”  
Sulyir's question brought her up short. Her shoulders slumped forward, she turned around, a hand on the back of the chair across the table from him.  
“Perhaps it might ease your burden to join me in a round of ale.”  
She shook her head though she eased herself into the chair, “I can't drink while I'm working.”  
Perth walked past the table, rolling his eyes at her, an expression she summarily ignored.  
“You still pine over the loss of Neve?” Sulyir leaned his arms on the table, reluctant to make any sudden move, any gesture of comfort toward her lest she change her mind and leave.  
She shrugged, gazed up at the rafters, “Of course I do, not that it does any good. She had to fuck everything up, just had to prove to me....,” she laughed drily, “...ah shit, she made a mistake and it cost her her life. This has all been one great big cock up all along.”  
Sulyir tilted his head, “What say you....?”  
Eris covered her face with her hands, “Geez, screw up, bad idea, call it what you want...and sadly enough I'm stuck here.”  
“You are not a slave nor are you indentured. Why can you not simply return to Alfheim?”  
Eris was silent for a long minute, finally she looked at him, “I'm not from Alfheim.”  
Sulyir sat back in his chair.  
“I'm going to let you in on something Neve didn't know only because I knew even though she adored me, she could never keep a secret, especially when she was angry,” Eris leaned over the table, her voice low, barely a whisper, “I'm from Earth...sorry, Midgard.”  
The old farmer had spoken often with great vehemence about the King and his collaboration with the Midgardians, his fondness for the realm well known about the kingdom, as evinced by his choice of one of their own for his Queen, furthermore he had allowed the opening of mysterious doorways called portals, allowing the Midgaridans access to Asgard and the other realms.  
_“He is a fool!”_ the old man had cried, _“The Midgardians look upon us as superior beings and why should they not? To bring them here is to court danger, invite interbreeding, weaken our people!”_  
“Can you not return to Midgard then?”  
“Nope,” she laughed, “You see, they don't know I'm here.”  
When Sulyir stared at her, she held a finger to her lips, “I snuck into the realm.”  
“How does one sneak through a door without being seen?”   
She crooked her finger at Sulyir as she stood up, hurried to the door, gesturing for him to follow her outside.  
Once on the front doorstep, their shadows stretching out into the street from the light of the lantern by the door, she glanced up and down the street, then took the coin from her pocket and pressed it into his palm.  
“These doorways as you call them are what that crazy billionaire Stark referred to as portals, holes in the fabric of reality, space. You can step through them as easily as walking into a room,” her words were spilling out now, faster and faster as if she'd kept the in a bottle and was now pouring the contents out onto the snow covered ground, “I was supposed to have been part of the group that came over a few months ago but I didn't want to follow their rules, play their games. I wanted to be free, to start a new life where no-one knew me. I wanted to find a rich man who would drown me in luxury, make me a woman of means, save me from spending the rest of my life dancing on poles and blowing Johns for next to nothing,” She took his hand, the one with the coin in it, “So I lied. I lied about myself and they believed me. How did I sneak into this realm...?”  
She faded into nothing before his very eyes. He stumbled off the doorstep into the street, nearly losing his balance before his arm was gripped by an unseen hand, steadying him.   
“Open your hand,” came Eris's voice a few paces before him. He did so, watched the coin drop out of the air, catching the light of the lantern before it landed back into his palm and she solidified in front of him again.  
“I have had the ability to become invisible since I was a young girl. It saved me more than once from being raped when I was placed with foster families or found myself being pursued by a John who claimed to be in love with me. Now it's trapped me here. I can't go home unless I want to end up in prison for fraud and falsifying information.”  
“You...were not here,” Sulyir breathed, “The coin. I could not see it, yet it is here in my hand.”  
Eris seemed to have run out of steam. She wrapped her arms around her waist, stared down at her feet, “Anything I touch becomes invisible as well. One night while I was walking home after work, I was followed by one of the patrons. I slipped into a doorway and let myself fade away. When he passed me, I was going to let him continue on until I saw a penknife in his hand. If he'd caught up with me, he would have likely killed me after he'd fucked me, maybe before, some guys get off on screwing a dead woman.....so I came up behind him and stabbed him with my own switchblade.”  
Eris leaned back against the outer wall of the tavern, her hands to her cheeks, “So now you know. If you want to go directly to the King and tell him about my whereabouts, I'm sure he'll give you a reward or some damn thing.”  
Something was prickling the back of Sulyir's mind, something....  
“Why would I turn you in?”  
Eris looked up at him, “Why wouldn't you?”  
Sulyir smiled, “For wishing to change your position in life? Have you then given up your quest to bed the Prince Regent?”  
Eris chuckled, shook her head, “I'm stuck here. As stuck as I was in Midgard. I don't have the means to present myself as a woman of bearing nor can I see my way clear to worm my way into his company. He keeps clear of the taverns and he's either with the King or a man named Colin who would recognize me the minute he saw me. I picked an impossible target.”  
Perth swung the door open, narrowly missing knocking the iron handle into Eris's forehead as she jumped to the side with a squeal, “Geez, Perth, you trying to kill me?”  
“No! I'm trying to close th' tavern for th' evenin' and I can't rightly do so with one of me hens outside the coop can I?” Perth lifted the lantern from its hook by the door and gave Sulyir a hard stare as he guided Eris up the steps.  
“Goodnight, Sulyir,” she called as the door closed behind them.  
Sulyir stood there in the snow, watching the tavern lights in the windows wink out, then headed down the empty city streets toward his berth in the old farmer's hayloft, his mind working furiously, a spark igniting a glimmer of hope.


	66. 66

Simon kept looking from side to side as they rode along the road they'd discovered when the valley floor began to open up. The rutted track was as wide as a three lane highway, the ruts themselves looked to be about three feet deep. He took a linen kerchief he'd tucked into his belt, wiping his forehead. Were they not in unfamiliar territory and he unwilling to offend, he would have long ago shed his tunic. The others looked similarly wilted. Riding along beside him, Wickett fanned himself with his hand.  
“Wickett will never complain about the snow ever again.”  
“I don't imagine he will,” Simon chuckled, “And neither will I. It's like the bloody tropics here.”  
“Listen to the lot of you complaining like women!” Tulla cried, “You've leave to shed your tunics if it will but cease your moans.”  
Simon regarded the warrior dwarf as she rode proud upon her horse, her leather bodice opened nearly to the tips of her ample breasts, sleeves rolled up to her biceps, certain that were she of a mind, she'd shed her garments faster than any of the men.  
Kara whistled as they came upon another vineyard, grape arbors lining both sides of the road, “Would you look at this? Trellis after trellis, acre upon acre and all bound for the bottle,” he leaned over, tugged at Mazov's sleeve, “Mayhap we could bring some vintage back with us?”  
Mazov grinned at him, “Ah it depends on our welcome does it not? Remains to be seen whether we be served wine or served _with_ wine.”  
Simon twisted in his saddle to look back at the brothers, receiving a wink from Mazov, “But first we must reach the stronghold before we concern ourselves with our fate and there's no certainty about that now is there?”  
“Mazov!” Harmand cried, “You've said quite enough for all of me. You'd do well to keep your thoughts to yourself.”  
“It's alright,” Simon called to Harmand, “He's said nothing I haven't been thinking all along. We don't really know what's going to happen do we?”  
Harmand opened his mouth to answer but a cry cut him short.  
“Salutations!”  
From the arbors along the left hand side of the road emerged a gray haired man dressed in linen breeches and leather sandals, otherwise bare from the waist up. He descended to the roadbed, leaning heavily upon a tall walking stick, approached the group, looking up at Harmand then the others.  
“I'll wager a season's yield you folk are the reason the Magistrate's children were running toward the town a short time ago.”  
“We came upon them by accident. We meant no harm...,” Simon began but Harmand held up his hand.  
“We desire an audience with Surtr, the ruler of Muspelheim....”  
“I know well who he is,?” the man scratched his stubbled chin, “To what end do you seek audience, might I inquire?”  
“You may,” Harmand gazed down at him.  
“Excuse me,” Simon spoke up, “You're...well...human? You're not....that is to say...you don't look...”  
“I'm caretaker of the vineyards of Elmoth, brought here from Asgard to see to these arbors, I am not of Muspelheim, no, if that be what you're getting at.”   
“Ah,” Simon smiled, gesturing to the caretaker, “See? Clearly they welcome the people of other realms to settle here. We should have no trouble...at...all..”  
The caretaker had broken into hearty laughter, “I said I was brought here. I did not say of my own free will. I was a thrall, bought and paid for from my master.”  
“A thrall? You mean a slave?” Simon tilted his head, looked at Harmand then to the caretaker, “I wasn't aware Asgardians kept slaves. Servants, maids, stable boys yes, but slaves?”  
“Many a servant has found himself tied down by his indenture. He promises to serve for food, lodging, sometimes for him and his family but things get away from him,” Harmand nodded toward the caretaker, “And he incurs more debt than he can hope to repay. If his employer wishes, his indenture may be sold to another.”  
“Slavery, then,” Simon gazed up the road ahead of them where Surtr's stronghold now loomed ahead of them like a great dam sitting in the middle of the vast valley through which they'd been traveling, “This is new.”  
“Better than being run through and roasted whole,” Kara muttered under his breath.  
“I've room, board and all the wine I might drink....when my chores are through for the day, mind you.”  
Simon regarded him. By the crook of his spine and the sun weathered look of his skin, he had little down time during the daylight hours.   
“From whence come you then?” the caretaker pointed at them with his walking stick.  
“Alfheim,” Pelinor answered.  
“Of course,” the caretaker clapped his hand to his thigh, “Dwarves! It's been an age since I've seen your kind.”  
Harmand grunted, “Indeed. Tell me, is the magistrate a magnanimous Jotunn? Could we count upon him to present us to Surtr?”  
The caretaker shrugged, “He is a magistrate. Derive your answer from mine own. Keep on this road and you will soon come to the village of Dell. It is the outermost settlement of the city of Bantr-el. Safe journey to you.”  
With a wave of his walking stick, the caretaker turned and disappeared into the lush greenery of the grape arbors.  
“That's that,” Simon sighed, “We might as well get to what we're getting to while it's still daylight.”  
He missed Lelia.

 

Eidra kept her eyes trained on her knitting though every once in a while the sound of canned laughter would draw her attention to the group on the daybed across the way.   
“Eidra,” Jane waved to her, “Won't you just take a look? One look?”  
Upon their return to Asgard, Thor had at once begged Loki to bring the family for a visit to the palace, playing the “mother” card which ultimately caused Loki to cave without resistance.  
_“It is almost Jul after all and the Queen mother grows no younger,”_ Loki had reasoned when she told him she worried bringing Brynn out into the cold. Of course she too had given in at last, bundling the family into the wagon that morning, warning Loki how Thor would lament that they hadn't used the fine carriage he'd given them though the carriage was too flimsy for winter weather.  
Still it was nice to be free of the manor with its stuffy rooms, out in the brisk winter air at least until they arrived at the palace and found Jane seated before her new toy. Thor had relented, allowing Jane to bring a laptop and a satchel full of small hard drives from Midgard. She'd even procured a solar charger like the ones at the longhouses, only smaller, to charge the laptop battery.   
“This is classic TV, Carol Burnett!” Jane pointed to the screen as Brenna, seated on the daybed beside her, covered her mouth and laughed, “Look at the three of you, sitting over there like old maids.”  
Eidra cast a glance at Frigga sitting in the cushioned chair beside her, threading a needle, a small square tapestry suspended on a wooden frame before her, then at Helgi on the other side, her knitting draped across her lap while she snored softly in her chair, “We three are fine, I thank you. I have seen enough of the paintings which move. In Midgard they were ever present each time I visited,” here she stared at Brenna who seemed oblivious to her mother's gaze, “Frankly, they cause my head to ache.”  
“Oh Mama, stop. The woman is a jester. Why do you not join us? She will make you laugh as well.”  
Eidra looked down her nose at them, “Indeed she must be quite amusing to tear you away from visiting your grandmother.”  
Jane glanced up at her with a wry grin as she closed the laptop, eliciting groans from Fen and Brenna.  
“Your mother is right. You came here to visit. We'll watch Miss Burnett later,” Jane winked at them.  
The door to the bedchamber swung open as Cait, Astrid and Brynn came rushing in.  
“Mama, Mama!” Cait cried, “Uncle had presents for us! Look!”   
Cait lifted a medallion hanging about her neck on a fine gold chain, dropping it into Eidra's waiting hand, “It is his royal symbol.”  
“Yes!” Cait peered down at the miniature hammer etched with celtic writing, “Mjolnir. He said   
because I am a princess of the realm, I am entitled to wear it.”  
“Me too, Mama!” Astrid crowded past Cait, elbowing her out of the way, “Look!”  
A dull clang resounded through the bedchamber and they all looked to Brynn who held in his hands a small carved wooden sword and metal shield, “I am a warrior, here to defend you!”  
Eidra laughed, held her arms wide for him, “What a brave prince you are! With you to guard our gates none shall pass.”  
Brynn bowed clumsily, dropping his shield and quickly retrieving it before he knelt down in front of her and took her hand, “I will protect you, Mama.”  
Bruna, followed close behind by Lóriði, glided into the bedchamber, gasping for breath, “Your Highness, forgive me, they are swift runners.”  
“ 'Tis no trouble. I have chased them many a time. 'Tis I should apologize for their behavior.”  
Bruna smoothed her skirts, swallowed hard, “The fault was entirely mine, your Highness.”  
The children, oblivious to the exchange had moved on to Frigga, clamoring to show her their treasures.  
“Prince Lóriði,” Eidra nodded, “How fair you?”  
Lóriði bowed, his reply flat, “I am well, Milady.”  
“ Lóriði!” Frigga cried, “I am well, _your Highness.”_  
Lóriði bowed again, stiffly, “Forgive me, your Highness.”  
Eidra was taken aback at the disgust in his voice, barely hidden, though she acknowledged his apology with a smile and a bow in return.   
“The King and the Prince Regent are still on the hunt are they?” Frigga glanced at Bruna.  
“They are, your Majesty but they should return soon, it be almost time for the banquet.”  
Frigga stroked Cait's hair, bent down to kiss Astrid and Brynn atop their heads and pushed herself to her feet, Tamarin immediately at her side, supporting her.  
“I will take my leave of you then,” she bowed to Jane then to the others, “I must change for the banquet.”  
Brenna rose from the daybed, “Grandmother, might I come along?”  
Frigga raised an eyebrow, looked at Eidra, “If your mother wishes it, yes.”  
“Of course. We shall meet in the Great Hall,” Eidra pressed Frigga's hand to her forehead, feeling Frigga squeeze her fingers in return then pulling from Tamarin's grasp she wrapped her arm around Brenna's elbow as they shuffled toward the door.  
“I so wanted to go on the hunt,” Fen mumbled as the door closed behind them.  
“Your grandmother wanted to see her grandchildren,” Eidra picked up her knitting again, “All of them.”  
Fen walked past the braziers through the high arched columns to the balcony, staring into the south courtyard far below as Jane rubbed her swollen stomach with a groan.  
“I can't believe I have a little less than two months to go. It's impossible to find a comfortable position whether I'm lying in bed, standing, sitting...,”  
Helgi, who had awakened from her light doze to resume knitting, regarded Jane with a twinkle in her eye, “Your Majesty, if you'll forgive me for saying, might you be carrying more than one child?”  
“Oh my God!” Jane cried, “That was all I heard from my mother during my vacation. _“Janey, honey. Maybe you've two buns in the oven, you're huge! Are you sure you're only seven months along? Jane, why don't you ask the obstetrician to set up an ultrasound again while you're home, just to be certain? Triplets run on your father's side you know.”_ By the end of the visit, I took to hunching forward when she sat down next to me so I wouldn't look so big.”  
“I was a mountain when I was pregnant for Astrid and Brynn,” Eidra giggled, “Toward the end, Loki would walk up to me, stop and step back with the sweetest tilt to his head. “Have you grown larger still?” he would ask.”  
Jane leaned backward, shoved herself up from the daybed to shuffle over to Frigga's vacant chair where she plopped down with a grunt, “Where I come from, that's cause for a busted jaw. You never ask a woman if she's gotten fatter....ever. Did you tell him where to get off?”  
Eidra laughed aloud then, “Not at all. I was proud of my stature, proud to carry his children, I would most often tell him I believed I had become bigger,” she patted her belly with a sigh, “I miss those days terribly. Feeling the baby move, the lying in, the late night feedings with just the three of us, Loki, the baby and myself, first smiles, first steps, first words, dear me.”  
“I'm going to need your help when the baby....alright, or the babies come. I'm scared out of my mind.”  
Eidra gazed down at the floor where Bruna was sitting cross legged with Brynn, Astrid, and Cait, telling them a story.  
“I have indeed had my share of experience.”

 

 

Fen sensed movement at the edge of his vision and turned to see Lóriði standing a few feet away looking over the railing into the south courtyard the same as he had been doing a moment ago. He was going to be tall. At just seven seasons, he was nearly to Fen's shoulder. Fen waited for him to speak but he was quiet. Rather than endure the discomforting silence, Fen was about to return to the sitting area but before he could take a step, Lóriði snickered.  
“I cannot imagine a half breed sitting upon the throne of Asgard.”  
_“Better than the son of a whore and a traitor,”_ Fen thought to himself, “Not even if the one half be Asgardian?”  
“So the other half may be loyal to Midgard?”  
Fen looked at his mother, “My maternal grandmother was Midgardian yet my loyalties lie solely with Asgard.”  
At a grunt from Lóriði, Fen whirled about to face him, “Do you doubt the veracity of my statement?”  
“I neither doubt nor attest to it. I say simply that it has no merit coming from such a one as you.”  
Fen felt his face grow hot, “Do not deride me. I am a prince of the realm!”  
“Ha!” Lóriði strode over to him, looking up into his face, “You are Prince of this realm in title only. Mother told me about your father. Would you like to know a secret?”  
Fen's stomach felt as though it had twisted into a tight ball, his mouth drawn tight, keeping his angry words in check. Father had warned him more than once about his temper but Lóriði's contemptuous smile threatened to draw him into a rage, “My mother has told me of your mother as well. Nothing you could tell me would hold a hint of truth...”  
Instead of inciting Lóriði to anger, he smiled, crooked his finger at Fen who bent forward. As Lóriði whispered in his ear, Fen's eyes grew wide, his teeth bared as if ready to tear out the young boy's throat.  
Lóriði stepped back from him, his smile wider now, “You are the son of our enemies. I have more right to the throne than ever you...aaaaAAAH!”  
All at once the fight with the boy from the city during the Solstice festival rose to his thoughts like a long forgotten friend and Fen was on Lóriði, ignoring the screams of his mother and the Queen. All he wanted was to hit Lóriði squarely but the boy, though half his size, was quick, deftly avoiding Fen's jab's, countering with a fist to the chin which stunned Fen long enough for Bruna to lift him up.  
“Fenris!” Eidra cried, taking his face in her hands, “Stop this, stop your fighting at once! What has come over you?”  
Fen stopped struggling, stood there watching Bruna pull Lóriði to his feet, directing him over to Jane who took him by the shoulders and guided him away from the balcony.  
Eidra turned to spy Cait, Astrid and Brynn in the sitting area, their mouths open in silent shock then she returned to Fen, “Prince Lóriði is but a child, have you taken leave of your good senses?”  
“He started it,” Fen muttered, immediately angry with himself for such a childish reply, truth or not.  
“Have you not two legs? Can you not walk away? He is a precocious, sullen boy. You are above him, do you ken? You are a prince of the blood, a man yet you let a child draw you into fisticuffs?”  
At this, the tears of rage broke their floodgates and rolled freely down his cheeks, as he rasped, “I hate him, Mama. He says the most terrible things about our family. He deserves to be.... to be with his mother in the cells!”  
Fen rubbed his eyes, felt his mother's arms enfold him into the place which had driven away countless nightmares, soothed the pain of a bruise or a cut, emboldened him, shared in his joys, comforted his sorrows and he knew Lóriði's words, the hurled epithets of the boy in the square so long ago were but the hateful gossip of a poisoned mind. Slowly his tears ceased, his mother stroking his back, murmuring to him, “My heart, my son, Drive him from your mind. All is well now, all is well.”

 

  
The attendants spilled the stag's entrails onto the stark white snow, staining it crimson while Loki and Thor sat on a fallen tree a short distance away, watching them. Thor dug into the pouch at his belt to dig out a handful of dried berries, popping them into his mouth.  
“Have you more of the dried venison, Loki?”  
Loki nodded, handing him a strip of the seasoned meat, wincing at the painful jab such a simple act entailed. He rubbed his chest, feeling the scar line of his old injury. It had been tight today as he set the crossbow and was now repaying him for his rebuff.  
“Your bow arm never did recover,” Thor mumbled around a mouthful of venison.  
“It did not and it is full sore now,” Loki rotated his shoulder, irritated at the ache settled there.  
“Have you given due consideration to our conversation this morn?”  
Loki paused, eyed Thor, “I have been thinking of little else.”  
When Loki fell silent again, Thor elbowed him, “Well? Must I beg you to share your thoughts with me?”  
Loki sighed then, templed his hands beneath his chin, “Another longhouse right outside the walls of the city?”  
Thor tore another bite from the hunk of dried venison, “Populated with what Director Fury terms ambassadors from Midgard.”  
“The word ambassador would imply to me the Midgardians think to maintain a permanent presence here in Asgard. I, myself, was under the impression their stay here was to be temporary.”  
Thor stared at him, “I, however, was not so easily misled.”  
Loki rose from the fallen tree to stand arms crossed, gazing out at the distant spires of the city, “Misled? 'Twas not I who was so easily misled. Rather I held out hope that you would better guard against such an influx of off-worlders but then, my dear brother, is it not you who hold the Midgardians in such high regard? You who considered staying in that barbaric realm just to be with your lady love? Do you in fact not welcome your adopted brethren with open arms?”  
A hard shove at his back made Loki stumble forward, nearly losing his footing. The attendants, still at work on the stag carcass, glanced up but quickly looked away when Loki twisted about to face Thor who shoved a forefinger at his face, “Do you think me a traitor to my people? Do you think I would throw wide the doors of Asgard to such a self serving realm? I have friends on Midgard whom I care for and I believe Midgard is worth preserving for the good I have seen engendered within but do not think I would forsake this realm or the safety of its people for the benefit of Midgard!”  
Loki slapped Thor's hand away from his face, “What of the longhouses which stand here now? The portals? Our people can only watch from the perimeter, spying, scrambling about to gather intelligence. Why do they not allow our people inside? Why do they not work with us?...”  
Thor put his hands to his temples, “Loki, we have been over this countless times. I do not wish to expose our people to such technology and even if I did, who would volunteer to live among a people they believe are dishonest, inferior in strength, in intelligence, in compassion? Who among us could even hope to ken the world of science in which Master Stark lives? Who?”  
Loki's frown softened into a sad smile as he put his hands on Thor's shoulders, “Listen to yourself, brother. Friends though they may be, you no more wish them to raise up a settlement here in Asgard than do any of your subjects, not because you do not care for them but because you do not fully trust them.”  
“Well met,” Thor put his hands on Loki's shoulders in return, giving them a hard squeeze, “Time and time again do you prove your worth as my adviser, my friend. I shall deliver my refusal to them and we shall see how our rebuff is met.”  
“Sire?”  
They turned to see one of the attendants standing there beside them, hands clasped before his bloodstained tunic, “We have finished dressing the buck. It is ready to set on the pole.”  
Thor let Loki go, waving his hand in the direction of the stag lying on the snow, “Now to the palace and a fine meal. Come.”


	67. 67

“Colin, son, give me a hand with that luggage up top will you?”  
Colin reached into the closet over his father's head and lifted the old slate blue suitcase off of the top shelf above the hanging rack, coughing as he brought it level with him, waving his hand in the air.  
“Jesus, look at the fecking dust!”  
“Son!” Quinn hissed, “Yer in a home for the elderly, have some measure o' respect. Set the case down. Here, lay these clothes on the bed there and we'll put them in the trash bags.”  
Quinn lay an armful of clothes over Colin's outstretched arms, thin housecoats, pajama sets, a few cardigans, a pair of slacks. He set them on the bed and turned to receive more clothes.  
“For a man who wasn't going anywhere, he was knee deep in togs.”  
Quinn laid a couple of suits over Colin's arms, “Aye, he liked to cut a fine figure he did. Said it held the ladies attention.”  
Colin nodded, “It's a wonder he stayed single after Gran died what with his libido.”  
Quinn leaned into the closet again, “I suppose after the love of yer life passes on, all other women pale by comparison....not that it stopped him looking.....uunnnhhh!”  
“Da? What're you doing?”  
“Tryin' to cultivate a hernia. Yer grandad's trunk's wedged in tight...hnnn!”  
Colin took a handful of his father's collar and pulled at it, “Da, let me do the yanking. I'm not bringing you home lamed up. Ma'll kick my arse. Sit on the bed and let me try at it.”  
Quinn stood upright, a hand at his back, “Gonna need a cart to get that to the Corolla..”  
“And a gurney for yerself, sit down before you fall down.”  
Colin squatted in front of the trunk, took hold of the right handle and began to pull. When it had moved as far as it could one way, he would push on the other end, pull again on the right handle. Push, pull, push, pull until finally he had it sideways. He stood up again, took the handle and dragged it into the room where he sat down on the floor in front of it.  
“It's got to be filled to the top,” Colin wiped his forehead as he leaned back against the wall.  
“Probably with a lot of shite from the wars, W W two, the Korean conflict...”  
“He fought in Korea?”  
“Nooo, he was too young...all of fourteen if I'm doing me math right. Could you see him going off ta war anyhow...brandishin' a trowel? He was fascinated with the excitement of it all but the gardens was his real passion.”  
Colin chuckled, nudged the trunk with his foot, “Wouldn't it be a kicker if this was filled with seed packets?”  
Quinn gazed down at the trunk, “You kid but I'm after thinkin' there might be a packet or two. There is, I'll plant 'em at the cemetery, that sound about right?”  
“Aye unless they're some odd tuber, can you see the caretaker at Carnmoney scratching his head at the onion sets around the stone?”  
Quinn slapped his leg, laughed aloud, “I'll do it just ta throw the bastard off!”  
“Da, we're in a home now, watch yer language,” Colin winked at him, grabbed the top of the trunk and struggled to his feet giggling at his father's middle finger in reply.  
“We best get a move on. We've plenty more where this came from.”

It was well past the noon hour when they stopped at the nurse's station on their final trip to the car. An Indian woman in nurses scrubs patterned with bright daisies was bent forward, typing on the screen of a tablet on the desk before her.  
Colin cleared his throat,“Noni, the room's cleared.”  
She looked up at him with a wide smile which made his heart race and he was reminded of a time not so very long ago when he had tried and failed to summon enough courage to ask her out for coffee.  
“I'm so sorry about your grandfather,” she walked around her desk to give first Colin, then his father a genuinely warm hug and Colin cursed himself. He'd faced far greater dangers in his career as an agent and yet Noni always seemed to take from him the power of coherent speech, sensible thought.  
“But he went quick, the saints be praised. The lights just winked out,” Quinn looked away, “He had a long life.”  
“Yes, it could have been so much worse,” Noni replied in that lilting voice that Colin could have listened to forever, “There are just a few exit papers you need to sign and then you'll be all set.”  
Colin stood watching his father and Noni. Why couldn't he ask her out to the pub? He didn't see a wedding ring on her finger. He wandered to the glass front doors, staring out into the gray winter sky, the rain approaching over the hills in the distance. He was going to be home until just after Christmas. That gave him a week and a couple at least. Then reality marched right up to him, sending a hard fist into his gut. When he returned to Asgard, he didn't intend to come back to Earth. He couldn't even think about starting a relationship when he would be gone by the new year.  
“Right, then. That's it, so,” Quinn handed the papers to Noni, “Come on, son. We've a few stops to make still.”  
Noni set the papers into a green binder and looked at Colin as he picked up the slate blue suitcase at his father's feet, “I haven't seen you here to visit in such a long time but my shifts have been a mess since Nurse Witlow went on maternity leave so maybe I've simply missed you. Have you been out of the country?”  
She'd noticed his absence. Maybe he could take her on a date to Asgard to see the palace? Meet the King and Queen? He smiled. He could hear Director Fury all the way from New York, “Oh Hell, no!”  
“Aye, for my job. I came home early because of Grandad but I'm here for the holidays then it's back to work.”  
“Oh.”  
No....no, no, no. He was not hearing disappointment in her voice, he was imagining it, putting it there.  
Colin glanced across the foyer at his father who'd made the front doors by then, fishing his keys out of the front pocket of his trousers then he turned back to Noni, gripped the handle of the suitcase so tight his hand hurt.  
“If yer free sometime, maybe we could grab a bite this week? I...I'll ke....I'll understand if you can't, it being Christmas and all,” he rubbed the palm of his other hand on the leg of his jeans, glanced again out the doors to see his father standing beside the car, a hand shielding his eyes as he stared at the home, “Or if yer otherwise engaged...I know how it gets around this time of year.”  
Noni clutched the folder to her chest, “Molly Browns?”  
The last thing he'd expected from her was acceptance. Colin stood there searching his brain for one word, any word but could think of nothing. He could only nod, mute as Noni flashed him that sparkling smile, her red lipstick brilliant against her white teeth.  
“Wednesday, then? I work overnight Tuesday into Wednesday morning, come home to sleep and don't have to be back to work until Thursday evening. We'll meet at the pub around seven? Does that sound good?”  
“Sounds brill,” Colin was backing toward the doors to intercept his father who'd started back inside, “Brown's at seven, this Wednesday, then.”  
He burst through the front doors just as his father reached for the handle.  
“I was after thinking you'd gotten lost. We've got stops ta make and yer Ma'll be wondering what kept us.”  
By the time Colin tossed the suitcase in the back and sat down in the passenger's seat, he was already laughing at his belated attempt to score a date with Noni. What in the hell had come over him? He banged his hand on the dashboard, frustrated as his father started up the car.  
“I'm sorry, son. I know this wasn't easy. Grandad doted on ya. We'll give him a proper send off.”  
Colin put his head back to the headrest, ashamed of himself. Of course, Grandad was the foremost reason he was home early, time to focus on that.  
“I know we will, Da. He deserves it.”

 

After stopping at the funeral home to deliver his grandfather's suit and make arrangements for the following morning, they had stopped at St. Johns to donate the lion's share of the clothes and shoes, his father admitting he could never bring himself to wear any of them.  
_“Better for someone else to put them to good use instead of leaving them to moulder in a closet,”_ his father had said as they carried the bags up the stairs into the church.  
When they'd arrived back home, his mother was already hard at work rearranging the furniture in the living room with the help of their neighbor, Mrs. Doul and her teenage son, Adair to make space for the coffin. On the kitchen table were plates of sticky buns, a cake, a tin full of cookies and other sweets, a couple loaves of fresh bread and a great jar of homemade pickles. Colin opened the refrigerator door to find more food brought over from people about the village, a deli plate, salads, cheese.  
“I know what we're having for supper,” he murmured, stealing a rolled up piece of turkey from the deli plate and closing the door again.  
“Colin!” called Mrs. Doul from the living room as his father and Adair lifted the easy chair to swing it around sideways, “It's grand to have you home though I'd rather the circumstances weren't what they were,” she crossed herself as she sailed into the kitchen behind his mother, “Are ya home for good so?”  
“No, Mrs. Doul, I'll be off after Christmas again,” Colin caught his mother's frown, “But I'm here now, eh?”  
“That ya are, luv. That ya are.”  
“Col, would ya like me to fix ya a sandwich, perhaps?” Mary opened the fridge door, “Annie brought a lovely deli plate over.”  
Mrs. Doul waved a hand at Mary, “It's the least I can do at a time like this.”  
“No, Ma. We've some of Grandad's things to take out of the car. We're going to bring them up to the attic.” Colin made for the back door, “We'll put something together later.”  
“Make sure yer father doesn't throw his back out now!”  
“Sure, Ma,” Colin called as he closed the door behind him. His father was trying to wrestle the trunk out of the rear seat when he at last returned to the car. He stood at his father's side, reached into the car and grabbed the trunk handle on the far end.  
“Okay on three, we're both going to lift and pull, then we'll set it down to get a better grip....one...two...threeee!”  
Gently they lowered the trunk to the gravel drive, maneuvered around it and lifted it again. A minute later, they were lowering it to the carpet in front of the settee.   
“That's old, that is,” Mrs. Doul bent down to draw a hand across the top.  
“'Tis,” Quinn knelt on the floor in front of the trunk, “It was me great great grandad's from the war to end all wars. Da used to call it his treasure chest,” he took a careworn creased envelope from the back pocket of his trousers, opened it, fished out a key which he set in the trunk lock and turned. The lock popped up with a snap.  
“Col, pull up the lid,” Quinn rose from the floor to sit on the settee, “Let's see what yer Grandad had in here. I've not seen the interior a this since I was in primary school.”  
Colin lifted the heavy lid, letting it sit carefully back on its hinges as everyone gathered around to peer inside. Old medals sat in the top tray beside marbles, campaign pins, a glass front locket with a small curl of russet hair inside, an old duck call, a broken gold bracelet, countless other trinkets, an old bus token, a tiny origami crane with Japanese writing drawn on its wings. Quinn lifted the tray out, setting it beside him on the settee, leaning forward to rummage about in the bottom of the trunk where were held larger items, a marriage certificate, the names of Colin's grandparents, Faron Denehy and Margaret Cargill faded but still legible. A baby book, old pictures in metal frames, a folded flag, the orange and green bars faded with age, giving the white bar in the middle a brilliance. Colin lifted the flag carefully up from the depths.  
“I bet Grandad would like this in the coffin with him.”  
His father nodded, “Put it to the side then. Look what was underneath.”  
Quinn reached into the trunk and lifted out what looked like a small wooden jewelry box with an envelope on top, fastened all together by a length of twine.  
“It's yer name on top, son,” Quinn handed the wooden box to Colin who felt his throat begin to sting as he stared down at the envelope and the words, “To my Colin” written in sprawling cursive.  
“Open it, go on,” his mother coaxed, “What nuggets a wisdom did yer grandad leave you?”  
Colin untied the twine, set the wooden box on the settee and picked up the envelope, gingerly working the flap loose, the glue long since dried up. He drew out the letter, unfolded it and stared down at the first page, his mouth working to speak even as his mind struggled for traction.  
“What does it say, then?” his mother made to reach for the letter but his father was already pushing her hands away.  
“Leave the boy be, Mary. The letter is addressed to him. He'll read it in his own time.”  
After a moment, Colin folded the letter, slipped it into the envelope again and stood, picking up the small chest, “I'll read it later, Ma. If Grandad's left the secret to any buried gold, you'll be the first to know but I've not the strength now. I'm going to put it in me room.”  
Colin hurried up the stairs to his bedroom, set the chest on the bed and sat down beside it, willing his heart to stop pounding as he took the envelope in his hand and stared at it. The first words across the top of his grandad's letter would have made no sense to anyone else in the room but himself...they were written in Asgardian.

 

The knock on the bedchamber door was so soft, Fen thought at first that he'd imagined it until it came again. He sat there on the bed listening. It was surely not his father, who, upon returning to the palace after the hunt, had been informed of his tussle with Prince Lorioi. He had been livid, sending Fen to his palace bedchamber. Perhaps it was his mother come to tell him good night, maybe to sneak a bit of food to him as he'd been forced to miss the feast as punishment. Here Fen bristled at the indignity. Was he not a man now? Not a child to be remanded to solitary confinement.  
“Fen?” came the hushed voice beyond the door and Fen leaped from his bed to throw the door wide.  
Gunnar stood there, his helmet under his arm and a tray of food in his hand, “Let me in before I am seen!”  
Fen swiftly shuttled him inside and shut the door quietly. Gunnar set the tray on Fen's bed and clasped forearms with him, “I heard what happened today. Pity you could not black his eye in the very least.”  
“I had no time,” Fen sat down on the bed to survey the tray, “So soon did I set upon him I was being pulled off again.”  
Fen picked up half a roasted chicken and gestured to the bed, “Sit down, join me. You do not know how good it is to see you. I feared we would have to return home before I could find you.”  
Gunnar settled onto the bed across from Fen though he seemed loathe to do so, “I was in Cole with a few of my fellow guards fetching a couple of new recruits. Forgive my absence. I have been a poor friend.”  
“You have been a loyal guard and as such a loyal friend for you serve the kingdom well. Do not upbraid yourself so. We shall carve out time soon enough. When summer visits again, we will return to our swimming hole, we will hunt, hide from our siblings.”  
Gunnar smiled weakly, “I look forward to it.”  
Fen regarded him, leaning forward to look up into his friend's downcast face, “Gunnar are you well?”  
Gunna nodded, “Yes, of course...have you seen Lisle since Haust-mánuðr?”  
Fen smiled at this, tearing a strip of breast meat from the chicken carcass, “I have. We have tried to arrange meetings when I come to the palace with my father. He seems to approve of the match. I have seen him speaking to Lisle's father about us. It must be so for they stop as soon as they notice our presence,” Fen reached across the bed and gave Gunnar's arm a playful punch, “And what of you? Have you found a woman to warm your bed at night?”  
“I have not yet the time for such pursuits,” Gunnar gripped the helmet in his lap a bit tighter, his jaw taut before he stood from the bed, “I must return to the barracks before I am missed. Good evening to you, Your Highness.”  
Fen tensed at the title but knew there was little use arguing with Gunnar at this point, he was too far gone. He was a member of the Royal Guards. Best to ignore it.  
“Good evening, Gunnar. Thank you for the food. I was beginning to wonder if I had been forgotten.”  
Gunnar tapped his breastplate and bowed deeply, his armor creaking, clanging with the effort, “You are always here, my friend. You will never be forgotten.”  
As the door slid shut behind him, Fen was suddenly struck by how much he missed Gunnar, the days spent in the woods exploring, hunting, fishing, riding. Now that they were both grown into men however, he supposed free time was all but a memory. Fen pushed the tray aside and lay down to stare up at the ceiling. Perhaps he should talk to Lisle, see if she knew any eligible maidens among the Council member's families. It would give him great pleasure to at last see Gunnar with a lady on his arm.

 

Eris glanced at Sulyir, catching his gaze again for what seemed the hundredth time this evening. Had the tavern not been bustling with patrons, she would have asked him what was wrong. Maybe he'd suddenly taken an interest in her, she smiled to herself. He was easy enough on the eyes to be sure but he was a farm hand and she wasn't about to run off to become a milkmaid, still she could give him a freebie or two.  
“Another ale?” she picked up the empty tankard from his table.  
“I would rather have your ear.”  
She looked down into his earnest face, “It's a busy night, Sulyir. I have to perform later...I..”  
He had taken her free hand and was now cupping it between his own, “I have a way to help you achieve what you desire.”  
At once, she thought of the prince, then of home. It was a toss up as to what she desired more at this point but how would this stranger from another realm possibly be able to help her in either case?  
He pulled her down until her ear was even with his mouth, his whisper a seduction, “I can deliver Prince Loki to you but you must help me.”  
He let her hand go and she backed from the table, bewildered, “You're out of your damn mind.”  
Sulyir shook his head, determination hardening his features, “You must hear me out before you so readily condemn me. If you wish instead to remain here until you grow too old to be of any use and are discarded in the street to beg, so be it only let me lay out my plan for you first.”  
Eris shuddered at the stark reality Sulyir seemed to have drawn from her very thoughts. She chewed her bottom lip, looked over at the bar then back to Sulyir, “We will talk when I am finished.”  
When Sulyir tilted his head, she pointed above them at the ceiling, “I'll come fetch you at closing time.”  
Sulyir gave her a broad smile. He would have ample time to convince her of the merit of his idea though he blanched at the thought of trying to do the same with Menyir. If this was going to work, he was going to need the cooperation of everyone involved. He was beginning to see a way to return home to Jotunnheim, bring about the dawn of a new era of glory for his brothers and give Eris her fondest wish, the Jotunn Prince Loki.


	68. 68

Eidra appeared from the darkened archway into the dining hall, carrying in her hands two steaming mugs, one of which she handed to Loki before she took her chair beside him in front of the sitting room fire.  
“Gretten is happy to have us home, I believe,” she took a careful sip of the mulled cider, blowing across the surface to cool it, “When I set the kettle over the coals, he was out of his room with the speed of a hawk so he could assist me. He hated to cook only for the servants and himself and Beth. She's feeling under the weather, so he says....”  
“Eidra,” Loki murmured, “Do you recall how concerned I was when the Midgardian scientist Simon Foster requested asylum? How I feared he would be but the first of many who would wish to stay here in Asgard”  
“I do. And I recall also the tongue lashing you gave poor Colin because you believed he'd kept such information from you,” Eidra shivered, drawing the lap robe from the arm of the chair to her legs, “What of it? Have your fears taken on a life of their own?”  
Loki stared into the flames, “My love, you have a penchant for raising old ghosts. I shouldn't wonder to find you become a spirit talker one day.”  
Eidra eyed him, “Why, dearest heart, were I not here to remind you of your faults, you would think yourself beyond reproach. I only serve to keep you grounded.”  
“And indeed you do,” Loki gave her a grim smile, “Though perhaps my fears were not as unfounded as my outburst, for the day I went on the hunt with my brother, he informed me the Midgardians have asked permission to build another longhouse outside the walls of the city.”  
Eidra turned to him, “Another longhouse?”  
Loki nodded, lifted his mug to his lips, “They seek to further strengthen their relationship with this realm or so they claim.”  
“And would they build another portal as well?”  
“Yes.”  
Eidra sat back in her chair, a hand to her mouth, “Too many holes.”  
“What?”  
“Too many holes,” Eidra shook her head, “Was there ever the need to stopper them up, you would need thrice the manpower to do so.”  
Loki leaned forward in his chair and reached for her hand, “And here I was of a mind you welcomed the Midgardians wholeheartedly.”  
“I welcome a select few. I do not wish...,” she paused until Loki squeezed her fingers gently, and even then she replied in a near whisper, “I do not wish an invasion.”  
Loki nodded, “Quite right. I told Thor I did not approve of the new longhouse and he agreed though he now has to deliver our refusal to Midgard. This has been plaguing me since I was thus informed and I fear it did figure in to my rough treatment of Fen.”  
“Fen made his own trouble,” Eidra lifted his hand to her lips, planting a lingering kiss on his knuckles, eliciting from him a contented purr, “He should not have let his heart rule his actions.”  
“Mmmm...though Lóriði deserves a sound thrashing to be certain. I have advised Thor to send the boy away from the palace until he is of age, perhaps with a small household to a manor in Freyr's kingdom. There he would receive a proper education while learning decorum, honor, fealty. At the very least he would be far from the influence of his mother but Thor feels obligated to the boy, feels as he was forced to imprison Sif by the laws of Asgard, he must atone for it. He regards the boy as an innocent.”  
Eidra stood, taking Loki's empty mug from him, “Which he is not. He is quite precocious, worldly for his tender age. Do you think he still steals away to speak to his mother?”  
“I am most sure of it though they have not caught him again as of yet,” Loki rose from his chair, following Eidra into the kitchen, “Perhaps, 'tis Sif we should send away but my brother is immovable upon either subject, a curse upon that woman and her spawn.”  
“Loki,” Eidra nudged him, “ 'Tis true fate has been cruel to Lóriði's but it is not his fault to whom he was born.”   
Eidra set the mugs on the wooden table, felt Loki's hands on her shoulders, the press of his lips at the back of her neck, “I will speak with Fen on the morrow.”  
Eidra stood there, mouth open, her thoughts temporarily scattered like chaff, “Yule is upon us....I have much....to do....the Mothernight vigil...my heart,” she leaned back against him.  
“Go on, the vigil?...”  
“The house to decorate, baking to help....with...ohhh.”  
At his throaty chuckle, she shoved an elbow back at him, “You deliberately try to divert me, you dog!”  
“Shhh, you will wake our good cook and his charge. Let us retire so our conversation will not disturb them.”  
“Conversation indeed,” she laughed, giving him another jab in the ribs as she followed him from the kitchen , “Any excuse shall do an' it drive me to the bedchamber.” 

 

In the darkened room beside Gretten's, off the kitchen, Beth lay on her cot, hands laced across her stomach, tears running down her cheeks. It was almost Christmas. Time was running out. She felt like a prisoner on death row waiting for a pardon from the governor. Alright there was a slight exaggeration but she could think of no better analogy. Gretten had fallen into a deep melancholy as the days wore on. She would catch him mumbling to himself about Midgard, worrying over what lay beyond the Bifrost, what work he could hope to find. She wanted to comfort him but she was at a total loss for words. She was lucky if she could find a comforting word for herself. Colin had to come through for them, he had to. 

 

Colin sat in his father's easy chair, wiggled his toes. It had been forever since he'd worn his dress shoes and they'd already started a blister. Thank God for a lull in the line. The house was fuller than he could ever remember, even during the holidays. He glanced up at the head of his grandfather's coffin, his thoughts turning immediately to the letter.   
He still hadn't read it, hadn't even opened up the small chest it'd been attached to. He simply hadn't the time, at least that's what he told himself whenever his mind wandered upstairs to the chest, sitting on the nightstand by his bed. He was busy helping his parents with the wake, greeting cousins, aunts, uncles he hadn't seen in years, finding places to store the food that seemed to appear with every mourner, making sure the whiskey bottles were out, glasses available but now all he wanted to do was rest.  
“Col, come into the kitchen and eat,” his Aunt Fay called to him, poking her head through the archway of the living room, “Yer skin and bones. Let Aunt Mary sit with yer Grandad.”  
Colin looked across the room at his grandfather's youngest sister on the settee, her hands a flurry of activity as she worked on a piece of crochet in her lap.  
“Go on, son. I'll be here.”  
Colin pushed himself up to his feet, wincing at the blister's bite, “I'll be back, Aunt Mary.”  
She smiled at him, her hands never slowing, “Take yer time, luv.”  
The kitchen was standing room only. Colin edged around the outside of the table catching the punch line of a joke which had the whole kitchen roaring, “.....and if me arse was a wagon you could ride it!”  
His Uncle Sean spied him as he reached the deli platter and picked up a couple slices of homemade bread.  
“And here he is, our very own astronaut. Yer glad to be home I'll warrant.”  
Colin grinned, picking a couple slices of deli ham off the platter, “Oh, aye.”  
He picked up the spicy mustard hoping his answer was the end of the conversation.  
“Tell us then, what's it like up there?”  
Nope.  
He spread the mustard with a plastic knife, “There is no up. I'm no astronaut.”  
“C'mon now. What d' ye call traveling to another planet? I say it's space travel and I say yer a right Timmy Peake.”  
Colin cast a glance at his mother who could only reply with a weak smile and a shrug of her shoulders. He counted to ten.  
“Uncle Sean, I'm not on another planet. It's another realm....another...dimension,” Colin slapped the top slice of bread onto his sandwich.  
“Call it what ye will, it's still not terra firma. What kind o' beasties have they got there? D' they use flying ships? Like the one's flew o'er New York? What d' they look like?”  
_“You shoulda counted ten thrice over, Col,”_ he could hear his grandad in his head as he turned to his uncle, “They look like us, Sean. You, me, Aunt Mary, Grandad. They're human!” Colin had to fight a smile as he thought of Loki's reaction were he to hear Colin grouping him in with Midgardians,  
“They're born, they live, they die, they have families, they fall in love, they fight and they make up. They ride horses, drive wagons, carriages. To most of them, flying is fecking impossible! What would you have me say? That the fecking tabloids Aunt Fay reads got it all right? That they're barbarians? You want the truth?”Colin picked up his sandwich though he hardly felt like eating now, “We're the barbarians. Us...right here on good old terra firma. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going up to me room.”  
Colin stormed out of the kitchen into the living room, past Grandad's coffin, past Aunt Mary and his father who had stopped talking to watch him, up the stairs to his bedroom.  
He slammed the door shut even as he heard his father's footsteps on the stairs, slow, cautious.  
“Son, Is everythin' alright?”   
Colin sat his sandwich on the nightstand beside his grandfather's chest, put his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes, “Aye, I'm fine. It's a bit much is all. I'm bushed.”  
In the silence that followed, Colin could hear the muffled shouts of his mother tearing into his Uncle Sean in the kitchen below.  
“Aren't we all now. Son, don't listen to Sean's blather. He's a fecking eejit and worse than any woman fer gossip, you ask me. You tell him you were living with a family a three headed kangaroo dogs, he'd have it all around the British isles in under a day.”  
“He would, so,” Colin snickered into his hand, smiled, “Thanks, Da.”  
“Ah, don't mention it.”  
Colin looked up at the closed door, “No, really. Thanks, Da....for checking on me.”  
Silence again followed by his father's voice, husky with emotion, “A course, son. Rest yerself. We'll see you in a bit.”  
His father's footsteps retreated down the stairs and he was left alone. He sat down on the bed, took the letter and the chest into his lap and lifted the envelope. The envelope itself was brittled with age. He slid the letter out, unfolded it, folded it again, unfolded it, took a deep breath and began to read, his grandfather's voice resonating in his head.

 

_March 5th, 2005,_

_Colin,_

_First things first. Happy Birthday. You were born this morning, a squalling thing weighing little more than a Christmas ham. Truth be told, I was beginning to despair you'd ever be conceived in the first place. Your da's a bit of a slow mover as you'll find out someday and well, your ma..ah I'll keep my opinion to myself. Still, they finally got around to it.  
Allow me to introduce myself. I am your grandfather, Cillian Denehy. Those odd symbols at the top of this letter say just that in the language of a place you'll likely never see, Asgard. I learned it from my Da, he learned it from his Da and so on. We've been told the stories, shown our place on the family tree, learned our purpose in life, told what we are, who we are for generations.   
But things change. Times change. Strange things have started happening all over the world, people with magic of some sort, powers, for want of a better word, have begun to show themselves, some doing terrible things to their fellow man, others performing acts of heroism to make the saints weep with joy. Therefore, to preserve your safety, in light of the aforementioned events, with us being the descendant of Asgardian nobility and all, I have decided to forgo your teaching until such time as the need arises. Your father is in complete agreement. It would be better were you not to know where your family began, what you could be called upon to do, or your children, or their children someday in the name of a place they've never seen or even heard of.   
It was my wish that your Da and myself would be able to teach you about our heritage, about the realms we came from, a chore which of late has gained great importance as our cousin in the state, Clancy Jackson lost his only child in a traffic accident a few years back. Him being in poor health now, I forsee no other offspring so his line ends when he passes on and the burden falls to you but the gods willing, you will never feel its weight.  
And there it should stop but guilt has wracked me all these nine months while waiting for your arrival. Though this decision was made long ago, I feel obligated at the very least to tell you about the chest you now hold in your hands..  
In this chest which was brought to Earth by the descendants of our ancestor, Volundr Denari, there is a book, written in by each generation. Stories, songs, of Asgard and Alfheim, advice, all you need to know if ever you find yourself called upon, a compendium of anecdotes, a few paltry spells, useless in a realm such as this. Study it, or, depending on your situation when you read this letter, chalk it up to a vivid imagination on my part. You're going to think your grandad either daft or a right fool and mayhap I am to have left you in the blind for so long. For this I ask forgiveness, maybe a bit of understanding. After all, you might well live your whole life with a head full of knowledge gone to waste until you pass it on to your own offspring and they to theirs....or you might be a hero, who can say?  
But now your life is beginning and thank the gods I'm here to play my part. May yours be a long and happy path._

_Much love,_

_Grandad Denehy_

 

Colin re-read the letter over and over until he could practically recite it in his head. He'd thought it strange when he'd first set out on his assignment in Asgard that his father never asked much about this foreign place or where his only son was staying, now he knew. His father didn't need to. He'd heard all about Asgard years before, had been steeped in it. Of course that left the question why his father hadn't told him about Asgard and the role he could possibly be stepping into. Perhaps Da was terrified if he revealed what he knew, his only son would rush headlong into danger but he could have assured Quinn Denehy nothing would be further from reality. Colin sat the letter down on the quilt and lifted the lid of the chest. The first thing to meet his eye was a gold coin, its color dulled by centuries to a warm glow. He picked it up, holding it to the light of the lamp on his nightstand. Imprinted onto it's surface was the familiar face of a king.   
“Bor?” he muttered setting it back into the box, lifting the book from the ratty red satin lining and opening it in his lap. The first leaf was written in Asgardian, the ink faded to a light brown, _“I am Volundr Denari,”_ he read, _“born of Alfheim, Protector of Asgard, citizen of Midgard. I have sworn myself and my blood to keep safe the Rune Elementals. This I vow in the name of Bor, King of Asgard."_  
Below were signed two names in Alfari, Melos and Zola. The third in large letters, in a language he couldn't decipher, could only be Bantr. Colin flipped open the first page and began to read.

 

Simon opened his eyes, blinking until they adjusted to the bright sunlight streaming through the iron bars. At first he hadn't the faintest idea where he was, lifted his head from the floor and was seized by a wave of nausea accompanied by a dull throbbing ache in his head. He reached behind him, felt a good sized lump at the back of his skull and rolled onto his side with a groan.  
“My boy!” came Harmand's voice, “Thank the Gods you're alright. I thought you'd never waken.”  
“Where in the hell are we?” Simon muttered, trying to sit up again, “What happened?”  
“Do you recall the magistrate? The one whose children we frightened?” Pelinor called.  
Simon turned his head to see Pelinor in a cell across the way from his own, his jaw dropping open as he took in the scene before him. Their enclosures were small cages, big enough for them but small compared to the cavernous cells in which they sat.   
“Yes....ye...yes I do. We've turned into bloody Lilliputians, Jesus Christ.”  
“Welcome to Surtr's dungeons,” Harmand grunted and Simon realized Harmand's voice was coming from behind the stone wall to his left. Harmand was in the cell beside him, “I demanded to talk to the red imp but so far we've not been called up.”  
Simon put his head in his hands. How could his journey end here, locked up in a giant's prison? Lelia would be mad with worry by now. They'd been gone at least a fortnight and it didn't look as though they were heading home anytime soon, maybe not ever.  
“The Magistrate's children ran home with stories Muspelheim was being invaded,” Kara called from a cell further down the row, “So by the time we reached the village, we were already the enemy without so much as notching arrow to bowstring. The Magistrate had his guards round us up, you got into a tussle with one of the smaller ilk and received a knock to your skull for your trouble.”  
Try as he might, Simon couldn't recall the incident. He stood up, anger fueling his words, “Did anyone mention I was under the protection of the King of Asgard? Anyone?”  
Simon knew under Thor's protection was a bit of a stretch though he had no doubt Asgard would come to his aid were he to send word. At least he hoped they would. Still, no one had to know the truth. He just had to play a good bluff. He was tired, he missed Lelia more than he'd missed anyone in his life and he wanted to see a clean basin of water and a soft bed in the worst way possible.  
“Ah no,” Pelinor mumbled, “there was pitiful little talking once we were set upon.”  
“Lovely, that's just superb,” Simon tried to angle his body to see down the corridor between the cells. Though he could see no sign of his captors, he was sure they weren't far out of earshot.  
“I DEMAND TO SPEAK TO SURTR!” he roared, his words echoing off the walls, “IN THE NAME OF THOR, KING OF ASGARD! WE ARE NOT YOUR ENEMIES!”  
They paused, listening. A chuckle came from further down the corridor inside one of the cells further enraging Simon. He scanned his cage looking in vain for something, anything to strike at the bars.  
“WE ARE BEING HELD AGAINST OUR WILL. IF YOU DO NOT SET US FREE, YOU WILL HAVE....THREE....COUNT THEM....THREE REALMS TO DEAL WITH. I'M DEADLY SERIOUS!”  
“Three?” Harmand regarded him curiously.  
“Asgard, Midgard and Alfheim. Why not? Do you think King Freyr would be happy to hear you're being held in a Muspelheim prison?”  
“Well, being as we hail originally from Nidavellir...I'm for guessing he'd pay Surtr to keep us,” Harmand shook his head, “But seeing as we're not going anywhere right quick, I say throw caution to the wind, my boy. It can't hurt.”  
“AH, FOUR! MAKE THAT FOUR REALMS. I'D BE AFTER FETCHING SOMEONE IF I WERE YOU!”  
Nothing save more muffled laughter from the cell down the corridor.  
“I'M GETTING...REALLY ANGRY. WHEN WE'RE RELEASED, I'M GOING TO MAKE SURE...WHOEVER'S RESPONSIBLE FOR OUR INCARCERATION IS TAKEN TO TASK...FOR....,”   
At the sound of a loud hoot, Simon peered down the corridor, “Whoever you are, I see nothing funny about our situation seeing as you seem to be in the same position!”  
Two cells down the row, there was a thunderous rattle of metal. Simon could just make out movement by the light of the torches blazing along the walls. A large crimson red face inset with coal black eyes floated out of the darkness behind the bars, impossibly high and at once Simon felt his head begin to swim.  
“I am in a far better....situation than your little band of dwarves. Small minded, greedy, crooked   
, they are no better than the Dokkalfar. You are far afield from your homes. Come in the name of the Asgardian King so you say?”  
“I do,” Simon licked his lips, “I have been granted asylum by the king himself.”  
“Asylum?” the prisoner's fingers, dark red tipped with black fingernails, slid out to grip the bars, “From where do you seek to escape?”  
Simon saw movement across the corridor. Harmand was shaking his head, waving madly at him.  
“From Midgard....I am from Midgard.”  
A streak of brilliant white split the prisoners face as he grinned, “The barbarian realm whose denizens have come to inhabit Asgard. I have heard much about you.”  
“Then you see how important it is that we speak to Surtr before my people come looking for me.”  
Loud laughter rang out as the prisoner tilted his head back, “Yes, oh yes! By the gods your pleas must not fall on deaf ears.”  
The prisoner's fingers disappeared into the dim depths of his cell to be replaced by a great clamor as he lifted a chained hand. An ear splitting crash reverberated through the cells as he struck his manacled wrist against the bars.  
“Guard!” CLANG!  
“Come quickly!” CLANG! CLANG!  
Simon covered his ears, squeezed his eyes shut.  
CLANG! “Here now! Is this any way to treat honored guests?” CLANG!  
Simon could only liken the din to a great hammer striking a giant anvil. He leaned back against the bars of his cage, “STOP IT!”  
CLANG! “Guards! Guards!”  
An object the size of a small barrel came sailing through the air, striking the bars where the prisoner was being held and bouncing back to the flagstones where it rolled to a stop before Simon's cell. It was a great wooden mug.  
“Shut it!” came a bellow off to his right, “Or I'll have you bound and gagged, Versillius.”  
The ground shook as another giant came into view, a set of keys, some of them half as long as Simon's arm, swinging at his side. He was dressed in leather armor sewn in studded strips across his chest and back, his breeches of the same material made a squeaking noise as he ambled between the cells. Behind him hurried another of his brethren who was only half as tall, in fact, had Simon stood beside him, he'd have at least reached to the giant's chest. They came to a stop before Versillius's cell.  
“You're no more an honored guest than I am. What are you on about?”  
“Not me, you Dokkalfari, your little pets, there in the cages. They've business with the mighty Surtr.”  
“Have they now?”  
The giant, whom Simon had by now discerned was the warden in this gargantuan jail, turned about, walking back up the corridor to squat down before Harmand, “Why did you not say so, little man? I would have brought you straight away to his Majesty's chambers.”  
Simon grabbed the bars of his cage, “Oi! Over here, you great barmy bastard!”   
He could feel his heart start to pound, the rush of adrenaline as the warden glanced over his shoulder at him.  
“That's no way to be talking to the one's got the keys to your cell, you troll's pizzle,” he rumbled as he stood up and bent down to stare at Simon who was far past intimidation.  
Simon crooked a finger at the warden, “I am on a mission to gather the Rune elementals. I am a descendant of Melos, current holder of the Rune Laguz and I request...no....I demand an audience with Surtr. NOW!”  
He stopped, waiting for the Warden to drop to his knees, collapsed with laughter. Instead he put a hand to his mouth, rubbed it, looked back at Versillius's cell, “It can't be, can it?”  
Silence from Versillius though he now stared at Simon through the bars of his cell.  
“Melos folk? I'm going to have to speak with the viceroy.”  
The Warden stood, striding down the corridor, his assistant running to keep up with him. There was a thunderous thud as the dungeon door was thrown wide against the wall and heavy footsteps echoed through the cells.  
“Melos folk?” Versillius's voice had lost all its previous disdain, “There is a legend says when the Runes are called together again, death will be loosed upon the nine realms,” his face faded into the darkness of his cell, “You are destruction's herald.”  
Simon backed away from the cage door, dropped to his knees. Versillius was right of course. He'd been hearing the same thing from Lelia, from villagers, Andra, even Harmand, since he'd left the encampment. The call of the runes was an ominous sign. Something was about to happen. Something terrible.


	69. 69

It was Christmas eve by Eris's count even though the locals had been celebrating the season for a few days already. She'd earlier joined in the vigil with hundreds of families traveled from all over the kingdom on something called Mother's night. They'd gathered in the city square on one of the coldest nights she could recall thus far, waiting for the dawn with the Queen Mother in attendance sitting on a well padded throne at the main doors of the royal palace, her diminished form enfolded into fur robes, a roaring brazier before her. There had been singing, dancing, hot cider, laughter and an empty place in her heart. Neve would have been at Eris's side that night, clinging to her, sharing her cloak, making her laugh with her remarks about the people around them. Despite such a somber reality, being there among the citizens of Asgard was better than any busy night at the Oak and Thistle. Perth had allowed her the night free to attend the vigil if only to see how the new girl, Sigur, fared on her own.  
Her sole reward had been the appearance at the Queen mother's side, just before dawn, of King Thor and Prince Loki whom she now looked upon with renewed interest mixed with a healthy dose of abject fear.   
Eris peered out of the tavern window. She could see the glow of the huge bonfire in the city square lighting the night sky over the rooftops of the cottages lining the streets. Perth had said the wild hunt was to begin the next morning. She wondered if Sulyir would be hunting as well. There was so much more to discuss with him.  
The night she'd brought him to her bedchamber had started out predictably enough. They had shared a passionate coupling sparked partly by their curiosity of one another, more by the friendship they'd formed and her need for anything resembling the affection she'd shared with Neve. In the afterglow, however, he'd told her the truth of his own story. How he'd been exiled from the realm known as Jotunnheim, a world of snow and ice, cold barren plains and mountains that reached far higher than any one could climb. He had been misled, joining an uprising against the tyrant Menyir, the ruler of the realm. The members of the insurgence were weak, their resolve shaky at best and the rebellion was quickly put down. Some of the older Jotunn, the leaders of the whole affair, were put to death, the younger Jotunn either sent to work in the ore mines or exiled to the outer realms as he had been.  
“But there is a way to redeem myself in the eyes of Menyir, return to Jotunnheim. I know it would work, I'm sure it would work.”  
She'd lain there on her side, staring at him, “You said this guy is a tyrant and now you want to go home to kiss his ass? I don't get it.”  
“How does it feel to be separated from all you have ever known? Even you have said you miss Midgard though there be nothing there for you. Would you now wish to return if you could do so without fear of retribution?”  
She'd had to admit he was right. She was getting nowhere here in Asgard about as fast as she had on Earth. She'd fooled herself in the beginning, thinking she could come to this realm and just own it.  
“In you,” he'd leaped to his knees on the bed, “I have found a way to restore my honor, return to my home!”  
She'd almost refused him then and there before he told her of his plan. He might forgive her reticence in time, understand her reluctance to lose yet another friend but instead, she simply lay there, mute.  
“You have the ability to disappear from sight along with anything you touch. I have seen it. The Asgardians hold a treasure in their reliquary, a relic of our people which was taken from Jotunnheim during a war between our realms. Were it to be restored to Jotunnheim, I would be venerated, I would return a hero.”  
“And how does this help me? You said you could deliver Loki to my side but you don't mention this in your grand plans.”  
Here he had leaned down and kissed her, “The Prince is Menyir's brother, one of our own. The second son of Laufey and Farbauti, torn from his mother's arms by Odin who brutally murdered her and claimed Loki as his own, contaminating him, tearing from him his heritage with dark magic, presenting him as a spoil of war, a gift to his queen, a brother to the mighty Thor.”  
“Okay, still not getting how this is going to help me.”  
Sulyir had jumped from the bed, pacing the floor, “Were I to bring you with the relic to Menyir, you would have but to ask his help. He would deliver the Prince to you.”  
“How?”  
There Sulyir had claimed he was stumped though he maintained the certainty he could give her what she wished.  
“And how would I get into the palace to fetch this...relic, seeing as I don't have any idea where this reliquary is and I can bet they're not going to simply invite me inside?”  
Sulyir had grinned at her then, “Easy, get into trouble. The prison cells lie below the palace itself.”

Eris pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders with a shudder, picked up her serving tray. She didn't want to get into trouble. Sulyir was sure they would stow her in the cells to await the weekly audiences before the king who judged what punishment would be meted out but what if he was wrong? What if they dragged her right up to the King's throne and he recognized who she was? Surely they'd shown him her picture when she was “lost” in the portal. Even if they hadn't, he would know as soon as she opened her mouth in any case.   
_“Throw a stone, break a window,”_ Sulyir had suggested, _“Call one of the royal family names, Get into a fight with a shopkeeper. Steal a loaf of bread. Anything to get yourself inside the palace.”_  
She'd danced for money, waited tables, turned tricks, nothing had changed there. She was still turning tricks even in another dimension. On Earth, she'd gotten into fights with her fellow dancers, seen the inside of a jail cell for the night more than once. Lied, yes. Called people names, plenty of times but rarely had she needed to resort to stealing and she had never been caught when she did so. Most of the time she was able to earn the money she needed, whether it be on her knees or her back, running an errand for a cup of coffee and a doughnut. And there were still holes in Sulyir's plan such as what she was supposed to once she managed to get herself hauled into the palace prison, once she was inside. How was she to find this....relic? Sulyir hadn't said what it looked like. She had to know more. If she were going to do this, she had to have her own plan.  
She set the serving tray on the bar, watched Sigur fill the empty tankards for the few lonely patrons scattered about the jumble of tables.   
“Merry Christmas,” she muttered as Sigur turned around to stare at her.  
“What did you say?”  
“Nothing,” Eris lifted the tray and headed to the first table, looking up as the front door opened. Sulyir smiled at her as he sat down to one of the tables and she smiled back at him. Perhaps she would not be alone for Christmas after all.

 

Colin lay on the settee listening to the rain hammer the roof, listening to carols playing low on the stereo, watched the lights twinkle on the little Christmas tree which now stood in the space his grandfather's coffin had occupied two days previous. The journal lay open on his chest spurring his thoughts of Asgard, of Loki and his family. Loki had talked to him earlier in the season about coming along for the hunt before he'd decided to come home to see his family. Right now, Loki and Fen were likely getting ready to ride out Christmas morning with Thor and a contingent of Aesir. They would bring home game and the family would enjoy a fine dinner prepared by Gretten.   
Colin smiled as he thought of the letter upstairs in his trunk. The day they'd laid his grandfather to rest in the cemetery, he'd come home to the house, prepared to call New York and talk to Director Fury about Beth Chapel's extended stay but he post had come in their absence seeming to accent the fact that ife went on no matter how fervently one insisted it couldn't possibly continue when a loved one passed. In the post was a padded envelope addressed to him from the S.H.I.E.L.D offices. Inside were two envelopes, one addressed to Elizabeth Chapel, the other to himself.  
He'd opened his envelope to find a letter from Tony Stark. It was brief but the message was clear.

 

_Colin,_

_Damn, I'm good. She's got a six month extension._

_Merry Christmas,_

_Tony Stark._

 

It would be a nice present for Beth and six months was long enough to figure out what their next move was going to be. By then she'd have had the baby.  
Bing Crosby came on the radio and Colin sighed. He missed the children. Their endless questions, their insistence that he play with them. Astrid's sweet smile. Brynn's bravery in the face of his illness. Cait's continued effort to lord over her younger siblings. Fen's awkwardness as he came to terms with his status as a man of the house. Brenna's carefree ways making her parents tear at their hair. She'd be gone to New York to see Sophie for New Years by the time he returned to Asgard.  
And of course he missed Loki and Eidra. Spending time with them was akin to stepping inside a romance novel, one of the beautiful stories with it's ups and downs, comedy and tragedy. They, neither of them, could exist one without the other. It was ever obvious by the way she greeted him each day when he returned from the palace or some other errand, by the way he looked at her when he thought no one else would see.   
Colin frowned then, Chris's premonition ringing once more through his head, _“The family will be divided as it has never been before, its heart torn asunder.”_  
He lifted the book off his chest, searching for the spot on the page where he'd stopped reading, squinting his eyes to see by the lights on the tree.  
_“.....the Protector has but to touch each Rune and he will be imbued with their power. Unfamiliar though the Protector may be with his new found ability, he must trust the Runes to guide him, to show him what he must do. Only then will the realms remain safe under his protection...”_  
The creak in the stairwell made him close the journal and sit up to see his father emerge from the darkness, adjusting the glasses perched on his nose.  
“If you stay up waiting fer Saint Nick, he'll never come.”  
Colin smiled, patted the couch, “Those days are long gone Da.”  
Quinn sat down, glanced at the book, “Thinking about yer home away from home?”  
Colin nodded, stroked the leather tooling on the cover, struck by the vague familiarity of the design, “Aye. Thinking too how much easier I would've had it if you and Grandad had decided differently.”  
“ 'Twas for yer own safety, son,” he jerked a thumb at the journal, “I've not seen that book in an age. Are you learning anything from it?”  
“I've learned a sight more living in Asgard than I could learn from a book,” Colin handed the age worn tome to his father who took it, put his hand reverently on the cover, “Wish you could come with me, Da. See the old country.”  
“Ah, no, I'm content to stay here on Terra Firma, meself,” his father smiled, “I'll be right pleased when you come back home to stay yerself. What is it now? Four months?”  
Colin couldn't bring himself to look at his father, “Aye, something like that. Unless they want me to stay on longer. They've got a new project coming down the pipe and if they ask me, I'd be hard pressed to say no.”  
His father sighed as he held the book out to Colin, “Yer fond of yer friends over there are you?”  
Colin rubbed the back of his neck, “I am.”  
His father stood from the couch, shuffled over to the Christmas tree to look about at the ornaments, “Just come home when you can.”  
“I will, Da.”  
“Right. That's me off to bed then.”  
Colin stood up, stretched, “I'm turning in too. I'm after thinking Saint Nick is on his way.”  
His father clapped him on the back before they headed up the stairs, “Yer right. No getting us up at dawn tomorrow neither.”  
“Da, I'm a grown man, fer feck sake....I'll wait till seven.”  
“You do, I'll crack yer arse the other way.”  
Colin laughed, closing his bedroom door behind him though his mood at once turned somber. He hadn't the heart to tell his father he was considering staying in Asgard. He felt like a coward but there it was. He couldn't bear to deliver such news especially during the holidays. It would wait. It would have to. He just wasn't ready yet.

 

 

Simon craned his neck back to look at the ceilings far above them, higher than any cathedral he'd ever been in, then he glanced to his right at one of the burly guards, or rather at his waist which was about eye level. The guard on their left was a bit shorter though no less serious. Simon stared ahead down the impossibly long corridor, suppressing the urge to ask the guards how much farther they had to reach Surtr's throne room.  
“Wickett thinks the ceiling is higher than the sky,” Wickett gasped, his mouth dropped open, “The hall longer than King Freyr's fields.”  
After leaving in such a hurry, the warden had returned to the cells in short order more flustered than when he'd left, two imperial guards flanking him. He'd fumbled the keys twice in his effort to unlock their cages. Versillius watched, silent, from his own cell.  
“You are to be conveyed to the King's presence at once,” Judging by the warden's agitated demeanor, Simon felt certain the giant of a man had only just escaped being thrown into one of his own cells.  
The guards turned to their right about halfway down the corridor, lifting a high red velvet curtain flanked by two more guards standing at attention, tall pikes the size of small saplings, in their hands.  
“Enter and wait there. You will be escorted to the King.”  
The curtains dropped into place with a whump! They were left alone in a large stone room with a couple spartan benches placed against the walls, torches ablaze in iron sconces. Before them were two immense doors girded with iron bands, a round iron ring centered on each one.  
“Must be the throne room, then?” Kara mused, stepping up to the doors, sliding his hand over the wood, “I wish they'd get it over with, whatever we are for.”  
All at once, the door swung away from his hand and he stumbled backward to land on his behind in front of the others. A Jotunn, not much taller than Pelinor, the tallest of the group, strode through the doorway. He was dressed in a long red and black muslin caftan cinched at the waist with a belt, upon which hung a large medallion. His long black hair was plaited, slung over his shoulder to drape down the front of his chest. His black eyes flitted back and forth as he regarded the band of travelers before him.  
“I am Laertus, Royal Adviser to King Surtr. When you approach the throne, you will stop and bow....like this,” Laertus canted forward until his left leg was extended before him, bent at the knee, his right hand resting atop the kneecap, “You will then stand and wait for him to speak, only then may you reply.”  
“Um, excuse me?” Simon stepped forward, “Might I ask what is going to happen to us?”  
Laertus fixed him with an imperious gaze, “Your fate is for the King to deliver. Follow me.”  
They started through the doorway, the doors shutting behind them with a bang. Simon turned to see two guards watching them, hands resting upon the hilts of long swords sheathed at their sides. Unaware the others had stopped walking, he came to a jarring halt, nearly knocking Pelinor to the floor.  
“Simon,” Harmand hissed, “Pay attention. We're on.”  
They were standing before a high arch leading into another great room. At the far end on a throne seemingly carved from granite sat Surtr, leaning forward, hands on the armrest. Flanking the throne were four guards, their elaborate dress emphasizing their higher station. At the bottom of the steps leading up to the throne stood a man and woman, talking to one another.   
“Laertus!” Surtr bellowed, “For Bantr's sake. Show our friends in!”  
Simon breathed a sigh of relief as they started down the long room to the throne. He'd called them friends. In the very least, it was a positive start. As they drew closer, Simon's heart leaped. The man standing at the base of the throne was Velos. Simon could only hope now that he would recognize him and vouch for their identity, if not their safety. They stopped a few feet behind Laertus who bowed to Surtr, the rest of the group hurrying to follow suit.  
“Sire....” Laertus began but was interrupted by Surtr's bellow.  
“WHO AMONG YOU CLAIMS POSSESSION OF THE RUNE LAGUZ?”  
Simon felt lightheaded, the old anxiety spreading throughout his body as he swallowed hard and stepped forward, “I do!”  
From the corner of his vision, he could see Velos staring at him, a hand to his mouth as the woman whispered into his ear.  
Simon hesitated then. Should he show them the rune? Would they laugh when Simon held up a little ship's prism?  
Surtr stepped down from the throne to sit on the granite steps, “You say you come in the name of King Thor.”  
“I am under his protection,” Simon's mouth felt dry as cotton, “...or rather he has granted me asylum in the kingdom of Asgard. I do not represent him. ”  
“And who are you, Off-worlder?”  
All at once, Velos stepped forward, his arms stretched outwards, “By the gods! The man of science from Midgard!”  
“Forgive my son his outburst. I present to you High Prince Velos and his wife Princess Marwen,” Surtr turned to look down at Velos, “You know this dwarf?”  
Velos extended a hand to Simon who shook it, “I do, Father. We met at the Allfather's funerary rites. He is from Terra....Midgard.”  
“Is this true?” Surtr's gaze came to bear upon Simon who felt like a mouse facing a very large cat.  
“I was born on...Midgard but I am a descendant of Melos, guardian of the rune Laguz.”   
“Show me the rune, Simon Foster of Midgard,” Surtr held out his enormous hand.  
Simon shrugged off his backpack and unsnapped the clips, thinking frantically of what he could do were Surtr to take the rune and crush it to dust. The answer came to him as he lifted the ship's prism out of the backpack and held it up to the torchlight.   
Nothing.   
He was defenseless, they all were. Even had they their swords and bows, they would do little damage to anyone save the smaller Jotunn.  
He set the prism into Surtr's palm, watching the hand rise into the air as Surtr bent to peer the pyramid of green glass.  
“And this is the Rune Laguz?”  
Simon tilted his head, feeling a bit like he'd stepped into another dimension, “Yes sire, haven't you seen the runes before?”  
Surtr roared with laughter, picking up the rune between thumb and forefinger, holding it up to study it as Velos leaned close to him, “None of us in our lifetimes have seen the runes. They remain hidden until they are called together.”  
“I've been sent to retrieve the Rune Kenaz,” Simon felt a knot form in his stomach, “You mean you've no idea what it looks like?”  
“Nor where it is,” Surtr's hand dropped before him, the prism once again in his palm. Simon reached for the prism as calmly as he could, cradling it in his hands.  
“It is the nature of the elementals that they disguise themselves lest they fall into the hands of our enemies. They reveal themselves when they are needed.”  
“Might I see the Rune?” Velos held out his hand for the prism.  
Simon handed it to him, “If you hold it close to the light, you can see the rune mark in the center.”  
In actuality, he hadn't the faintest idea if anyone but himself could really see the odd shaped hook buried within the green glass but he had to at least try to convince the Jotunns he told the truth.  
When Velos touched the chunk of heavy green glass it pulsed with a soft green light. He held it close to his face, peering through the surface and after a scant few seconds, he began to smile.  
“I see the rune mark. I see it!” he brought the prism down, placing it back in Simon's hand with an air of reverence, “You are a man of two worlds, Simon Foster.”  
“So I've been told,” Simon shot him a nervous grin, “But if we can't find the Rune Kenaz, we've made the trip for nothing.”  
Surtr bent down before them, “Did you not see the Rune Laguz glow when you held it?”  
Velos nodded, “Yes, but I was of a mind it was the nature of the rune itself.”  
“It would appear you have touched the Rune Kenaz before.”   
Velos frowned, staring at his hands, “If this is so, how can I have held such a precious object and not have known it?”  
Surtr rose to his full height, “Perhaps you are not the guardian of the Rune, nevertheless you have touched it.”  
There was a gasp as Marwen stumbled backward to sit heavily on the step at the base of the throne and Velos knelt to the stones before her.  
“Wen! What is it, my honeybee?”  
Marwen held out a trembling hand to caress Velos's cheek, “I know.....I know what the Rune Kenaz is!”


	70. 70

Colin glanced at the time on the Corolla's dashboard clock. 6:54 pm. He was leaving Friday morning, New Year's day, to return to Asgard. This was pointless. She probably wasn't even going to show up. Of course it would be for the best if she didn't, really. Headlights glinted off the rear mirror and he looked up. A car had pulled in behind him. He waited. Was it Noni? Two women, neither of them Noni, exited the car, crossed the street toward the tavern and started down the sidewalk to the rear door. Headed to the beer garden.  
He slunk down further in the driver's seat. His father had urged him to keep his date. He'd come upstairs to Colin's room, knocked on his door.  
“Son, don't ya have a date with that nurse this evening?”  
“Yes,”  
Silence.  
“Well you better get a move on, wash up, find a suit and tie. 'Tis half five already, son.”  
“I'm knackered, Da. I think I might stay in tonight.”  
His father had opened the door then, poking his head inside, “Yer going ta stand up that fine girl, are ya? A load a shite, and you asking her in the first place.”  
In the end, his father had shamed him into the shower and out the door. On the way to Molly Brown's, he'd managed to convince himself he was only going out for a pint with a friend but the closer he came to his destination, the more unsure he'd become. Now, sitting in the car parked alongside the pub, he was seconds away from turning the ignition and heading for home.  
The tap tap on his driver's side window nearly shot him into the passenger seat as he let out a rather unmanly screech. Noni stood on the sidewalk, waggling her fingers at him, her other hand across her mouth in an effort to contain a fit of giggles.  
Colin turned the key and rolled the window down, “If you were after giving me a heart attack, yer off to a good start.”  
“I'm so sorry,” Noni squatted down so they were even with one another, “I stood by the car thinking you would see me but you looked deep in thought so I went with plan B. Are we going in?”

 

The pub wasn't over busy for a Wednesday night so they chose the table before the front window though it hardly mattered. It had started to rain a couple minutes after they walked in so the view was lackluster, the streets outside mostly deserted.  
“Sorry I was late,” Noni sighed sliding into the chair Colin had pulled out for her, “One of the girls phoned in sick and I had to split a shift. I barely had time to run home and shower.”  
Colin sat down, picking up the drink menu on the table, “You could've rung me. We could have done this another time. You must be flat out.”  
Noni flashed a smile at him and for a moment he was glad he'd waited for her, then reality hit him hard, “Another time? You're going back to the states soon aren't you?”  
Colin bit his lip, “ 'Sright, Friday, in fact. Back to business.”  
“It seems the holidays are over before they start these days. They don't last nearly as long as the shops would have you believe. I swear I noticed Christmas decorations on display last August.”  
“Excuse me,” came a voice over Colin's shoulder, “I'm Kent. I'll be yer waiter this evenin'. Can I start you out with drinks? We've a fine selection of local ales to choose from.”  
Colin set the drink menu in its place between the salt and pepper shakers, “Ah, no I'm driving. Coffee will be fine.”  
The waiter, a thin young man with spiked blond hair, turned to Noni, “And for you, Ma'am?”  
“The same, please....no wait, actually...I'd like an espresso.”  
Colin chuckled as the waiter moved off to fetch their drinks, “I hope yer choice doesn't reflect on the fact I'm boring you to tears.”  
“Not at all,” she put her hand on the table atop his, “Rather a reflection on my job. I've been on since five this morning.”  
“That's dedication right there,” he felt her squeeze his hand.  
“What can I say. I love it. Helping the elderly feel cared for, visiting with them each day, seeing to their needs. My grandparents passed away just before I graduated college. They meant so much to me. In my mind, I'm caring for our residents as I would have taken care of them had I the chance.”  
Here Colin covered her hand with his own, “And you did a wonderful job with Grandad. Thank you again, from meself and the family,” he glanced out the window at the rain misting down, glittering in the street lights, “This doesn't feel right.”  
“Oh....” Noni slipped her hand away from his, only to have it grasped again.  
“Not that, this...place. I know a great chip shop in Bangor and an even greater spot to sit and talk.”  
“...but we ordered...,” Noni hesitated.  
Colin tugged on her hand, “It's got a great view.”

 

“I forgot how lovely it is here,” Noni stared out the Corolla's passenger side window, “Sometimes I think we lose track of the greater things in life, the beauty in our world in the daily struggle to keep it whole.”  
Colin watched the lights of Bangor glitter in the distance, “Now that's something I really miss.”  
Noni turned to him, digging a handful of chips out of the torn open bag in the console between them, “Come again?”  
“Sorry, I was fer remembering how much I missed....,”   
_“ELECTRIC LIGHTING!”_ his mind screamed.  
“...home. Home.”  
“So why not find a job in town?”  
“In Helen's bay?” Colin laughed, “Forgive me fer saying this but there's fuck all there for jobs in my skill set. Belfast, maybe...”  
Noni frowned, picked up her bottle of water and unscrewed it, “I think it's nice, quiet. I wouldn't mind settling down here.”  
“Nope, I had me fill of nice and quiet while I was growing up,” Colin leaned over to Noni, “The beauty in our world? It's out there,” he pointed through the windshield at the bay, the horizon swallowed up in the black ink of night, “Yer right about the daily struggle though. It's insane, the effort to hold this world together, keep it spinning on its axis, making sure it stays safe but it's worth it. Bloody heck, it's worth it. I might be one fecking hamster on a very big wheel but I love my job. Government work is all about being a good juggler when the curtain opens, being able to talk a good line of shite...”  
“It sounds like you're working your way up to the top of the mountain. Are you out to save the world from itself?”  
Colin ran his fingers through his hair, “I'm after shoring up me own little corner and that's as far as it goes. The heroes are the ones who put themselves in harms way. They're the ones doing the saving, taking the glory. Me, I'm the one making sure the heroes get there on time.”  
Noni shifted in her seat so she was facing him, “The power behind the throne? That's a lot of responsibility for a boy from a small town.”  
“When opportunity gets you in a chokehold,” Colin shrugged, “..there's nothing for it but to surrender. What about you? What brought you to Eire's little slice a heaven?”  
“My family emigrated to Belfast from Mumbai for my father's job when I was twelve.”  
“Ever get back there?”  
Noni shook her head, “Not since Aaji and Ājobā died, too painful to walk into their house and find it empty. I'm sure I'll return someday. We always come back to the place where we started.”  
Colin looked down at his hands for want of a better focal point, “I think yer right. Like a homing pigeon. Any brothers or sisters?”  
“No, you?”  
“Nope, parents gave up after I was born. I was a handful.”  
Noni laughed softly, “Any steady girlfriend in the states?”  
A brief picture of Brenna flashed through his mind, “Nooo. I fancied someone but she wasn't interested. You?”  
“Too busy. With my hours, how would I have the time? This is actually the first date I've been on in two years, easily.”  
Colin lifted an eyebrow, “So this is a date we're on?”  
“I thought that's what they called it when you asked someone out.”  
Colin smiled, suddenly needing to free himself from the confining space of the car, “Let's step outside, the rain's let up.”  
They leaned against the Corolla's hood, listening to the distant hiss of the surf. The parking lot was almost empty save for two more cars further down the row.  
“Why didn't you ask me out earlier?”  
Colin tilted his head, “Earlier?”  
“Before, when you used to visit your grandfather? We talked all the time but you never acted like you were interested.”  
“Ah, well..,” Colin rubbed the back of his neck, “I didn't have the nerve, to be honest. A lot has changed since I left on my assignment. For one, I pulled my head out of me arse.”  
Noni slid her arm into his, “Which of course helps when you've got something to say to someone.”  
“It does that,” Colin nodded, enjoying the closeness, “Getting late though. I should be bringing you back to yer car I suppose.”  
“I don't have another shift until tomorrow afternoon....unless you're in a hurry.”  
“I've plenty of time to kill. I'm in no hurry,” he replied, finding he meant what he said as he drew Noni closer to his side, “No hurry a'tall.”

 

Loki stood in the bedchamber doorway, watching Brenna pack her trunks, his irritation at her excitement loosening his tongue.  
“You seem to be packing for far longer than a moon's trip.”  
Brenna set a pair of boots at the bottom of one trunk, “Papa. Would you wish me to shame the family by wearing the same garments day after day?”  
Loki walked into the bedchamber to peer into the depths of the trunk, “ 'Twould appear you have well provided for your stay. Do they not have basins so you might wash your clothes or must you have a new outfit every evening?”  
Brenna looked up at him, an impish grin on her face, “They have washing machines, Papa, however I would gladly accept any additions to my wardrobe if you are offering to provide.”  
“Clever girl,” Loki drifted to the bed where he sat down, “You have an ample selection from which to choose. You need nothing more. Tell me, how is Chase taking your impending departure?”  
“Fine,” Brenna's muffled reply came from the interior of the tall wardrobe, “Did I not tell you he was going to join me for a week in the city? He has requested a furlough.”  
“You did not tell me, no,” Loki huffed, “How romantic.”  
“I know I told you, ” Brenna laid a dress in the trunk, “ You are become forgetful.”  
“I am hardly forgetful where my children are concerned,” Loki stood from the bed, pacing the floor as she returned to the wardrobe, “Must you stay for a whole moon, I ask you again?”  
“Yes, I promised Sophie. We are to visit Brian and Rachel in Boston, go skating at Rockefeller center, shopping at Macy's which reminds me...,”  
“...that I must give Stark coin so you might live in the manner to which you are accustomed,” Loki put a hand to his forehead, “I need to speak with your mother.”  
As he reached the doorway, he felt a hand tug at the hem of his tunic, “Papa, a moon is not long. Do not be so cross.”  
“I am not cross,” Loki muttered as he felt Brenna's arms slip around his waist, her forehead pressed against his back, “I only wish you would reconsider such a long stay.”   
“I will miss you too,” Brenna hugged him tightly, “And I may come home for a visit.”  
“Please do,” Loki murmured, patting her hands, Please do.”

 

Marwen made a stab at the keyhole of the hutch door for the third time, her hands shaking so she could hardly keep hold of the key. Maros hovered at her side clapping his hands in excitement.  
“Lights! Lights!”  
“Yes, my love, lights. Shhh.”  
Between the crack in the doors, a shaft of light had slipped through to illuminate the flagstone floor at her feet. When she threw the doors open, the cup seemed to glow even brighter.  
“Marwen? Why did you not tell me about this?” Velos squatted beside her.  
“Papa, lights!” Maros squealed, reaching for the cup though Velos held it out of his reach.  
“I was frightened,” Marwen breathed as they stood up, “Every time Maros neared it, the cup would glow as if lit from within. Like this. I did not know what to do, so I hid it,” Marwen put out a finger to stroke the surface.  
“Well there is nothing for it now. We must bring the cup to my father,” Velos strode out of the dining hall. Marwen handed Maros to Chalar and hurried behind him until he stopped short.  
“The light has ceased....it does not glow!”  
From his position on Chalar's hip, Maros called, “Lights out! Lights out!”  
Marwen paused, touched her hand gently to Velos' chest and gave him a sad smile, “Perhaps because you were not meant to be the guardian of the rune....Chalar, come here!”  
Chalar rushed from the dining hall with Maros, “Milady?”  
“Come closer,” Marwen held out her hand, “Bring Maros to me.”  
As Chalar handed Maros over to Marwen's arms, the cup sprang to life again, glowing from within, the bowl lit like liquid gold. Velos stared into its depths and at once let out a cry, “Wen! Look, at the bottom. Do you see the rune?!”  
Maros patted the cup, giggling with glee as they all peered inside.  
“The rune Kenaz,” Velos whispered, “Our son is the guardian of the rune Kenaz!”  
Marwen nodded, “Yes, and now we must let it go.”

 

Simon had started to pace back and forth. Behind him, Surtr spoke quietly to the two sentries which had accompanied them to Velos' country house.  
“Calm yourself, boy,” Harmand muttered, “ 'Twill do no good wearing a path.”  
When the front door flew open and Velos ran outside, Simon grabbed Harmand's arm. In Velos' hand was an ordinary carved chalice, its interior alit from within, covered in what looked like gold leaf in rich saffron tones.  
Without a thought, Simon let loose of Harmand's arm and started toward Velos.  
“Simon!” Pelinor hissed, “Harmand, what in the gods names is he doing?”  
“Wickett knows!” Wickett cried, scrambling to follow his master, “The rune is calling to Simon Foster!”  
When asked about his encounter with the runes in his twilight years, his grandchildren at his knee, Simon would say Wickett was the wisest of the group that day. The rune was indeed calling to him, had been doing so ever since he set out on this insane journey with Lelia no matter how unwilling he'd been to admit it.  
Now, however, he couldn't have stopped himself even had he wanted to. He watched the cup begin to shimmer as he neared. When Velos set it in his hands, they were bathed in golden light....

 

….....Colin shut his eyes, drew a sharp breath, missing the trunk entirely, sending the journal in his hand tumbling to the floor with a loud thump.  
“Col!” his mother cried from her seat on the bed where she was folding his clothes, “Are you alright?”  
For a minute, Colin was afraid to open his eyes. He could see Simon as clearly as if he'd been standing with him in the bedroom, could see in his hand a carved wooden chalice, aglow with warm light...  
“Colin!”  
He felt his mother's hand on his shoulder and he looked into her face, full of concern.  
“I'm fine, Ma.”  
“You didn't sound fine, you sounded like you were after having a heart attack!” his mother sat down on the bed again, “Are you sure yer alright?”  
Colin bent down and picked up the journal again, “Yes, Ma. I promise I'm okay.”  
He set the journal down into the trunk, a sense of urgency speeding his preparations now. He was more than ready to return to Asgard.


	71. 71

“Sir, we have a portal activation.”  
Tony pivoted around, dragging along with him the hologram he'd been navigating. He glanced up at the blocks hovering in their circle above the platform.  
“No blowouts this time. Good. Who is it?”  
The technician sitting at the bottom of the ramp peered at the screen before him, “It's Agent Denehy, sir.”  
“Finally,” Tony closed the hologram between the palms of his hands as he trotted up the ramp, “He's had enough R and R. Time to punch the clock again.”

Colin pulled the luggage cart tight beside him. If the portal shut down with his trunk half way through, he'd be needing a new trunk.  
“Another five months and you'll be home again, son?”  
Colin made to look at the portal bracelet, “Give or take. Yeah, Da.”  
As he pressed his thumb to the platinum disc he heard his father sigh, “It's fine, Col. Whenever you decide to come home, we'll be here. Take care of yerself.”  
Colin shook his head. He'd never been able to pull wool over his father's eyes before now, he didn't know why he ever tried in the first place.  
The portal shimmered, solidified in the middle of the sitting room. From the kitchen he heard a stifled sob from his mother.   
“Come on, cross over already. You know how much juice these things take!”  
Colin looked up to see Stark standing at the ramp on the other side of the portal, arms crossed.  
“I'm on me way, fer feck sake, just saying goodbye is all.”  
Stark waved at his father who nodded in return, “A fine son you have there Mister Denehy. A bit slow.....but a good man.”  
“Aye,” his father rasped as he shoved the luggage cart through, “A good man indeed.”  
Colin stared down at his shoes, reluctant to meet his father's steady gaze, “Da....take care of Ma will ya? I'll be home again soon.”  
Hating the way the lie sat, bitter on his tongue, he faced the portal again and stepped through.

 

“Almost two weeks,” Tony called over his shoulder as they descended the ramp, “You've been gone nearly half a month!”  
“You knew how long I was going to be off.”  
“I know but I mean who's minding the store while you're gone? Not the baker's daughter, you can be sure. Oh hey you got the notice right? About the Chapel woman?”  
Colin briefly considered letting the luggage cart roll down the ramp at Tony, in fact it seemed like a distinct possibility as the trunk proved quite heavy on a decline.  
“I did, so. Fergive me fer taking so damn long. It's not every day me Grandad up and dies. Next time I'll tell him to plan better.”  
“Now, now, Mister Denehy, I didn't mean don't tend to family affairs, I just like to have my extra set of eyes on the scene. There's a lot going on. In two days, most of the first group is set to return to Earth. Of course the only saving grace there is that Simon is with the project for the duration so they're not going to be looking for him. I've been fudging his journals for the last couple months.”  
“Where is he now, by the by?” Colin sat down on his trunk, watching Tony lean down to look at one of the screens with the technician.  
“I don't know.”  
Colin leaned over to stare at Tony, “What do you mean you don't fecking know?! What about that chip in his badge? You knew where he was a few weeks ago.”  
Tony's eyes never left the screen, “I can only track him as long as the chip is sending signals and it stopped, just like that.”  
“So you didn't think to tell the King? Maybe have him send a search party to his last known location? I mean what if he's in trouble. Jesus, Mary 'n Joseph,” Colin laced his hands behind his neck, “Do you know what's gonna happen if he gets killed out there? We're both going to have to answer for it.”  
“Look, the chip could've been damaged. If they get waterlogged, that's it, they're no good. Stepped on, same thing, snapped in half, damaged in any way they won't transmit any longer. If he's not in this realm...there's a laundry list of possibilities,” Tony looked up at him, “He's probably fine, though.”  
“Keep telling yerself that...,” Colin muttered.  
“...besides if I tell Thor I knew where Simon was all along, do you think he'd trust me to tell the truth again? There's already a rumble of dissent in the palace as it is....”  
Colin eased the luggage cart to a halt at the end of the ramp, “Dissent? About what?”  
Tony walked over to where he now stood beside his trunk and clapped him on the back, “You haven't heard? I'm surprised Agent Coulson wasn't sitting on your couch Christmas eve. Odd that they didn't try to track you down.....”  
“Well maybe they couldn't find Helen's Bay, it's a bit removed, now what the hell is wrong?”  
“A couple days after you left, Thor shows up here at the longhouse looking all official with a couple of his bodyguards and hands me a sealed letter to deliver to the powers that be. I asked him what it said of course. If I'm going to be the messenger, I want to know if I'm going to have to duck. At first he looked at me all serious like then he puts his hands on my shoulders and tells me he has respectfully declined the request to build more longhouses and portals on Asgard. He stopped short of saying he didn't want any more visitors but he wants to be able to contain the influx. He's not as stupid as the bosses on the other side hope he is.”  
“If the bosses think they're smarter than him, why haven't they tried to make inroads into Alfheim or any of the other realms?” Colin mused, “I mean if Da won't say yes, ask Ma.”  
“I'm glad you aren't working in the offices at the U.N.!” Tony shook his head, “Keep it to yourself will ya? Don't you ever give them any smart ideas.”  
Colin held his hands in the air, “Hey I'm on yer side. I'm only after telling you what they're going to start thinking about, if they already haven't.”  
“You're probably right,” Tony waved him away from the portal as they headed through the maze of work stations toward his office, “I'm wondering what's going to go down next myself. When I handed the letter to Mister Director, he read it once and dismissed me. By the time I reached the door to his office, he already had the phone in his hand. I'm worried the next group they're going to send will be of a more militaristic bent if you get my meaning.”  
“Aye,” Colin felt his stomach knot, “I'll talk to Loki when I get to the manor, try to feel him out. Maybe he can give me some idea why Thor said no but if he gets edgy about it, I'm going to let it drop. To be honest, after what you've showed me, I don't want more longhouses being built here on Asgard either but what if the alternative is a show of force? I don't dare broach that option with Loki. They're likely to turn around and march us right back through the portals with an eviction notice. That's the last thing I want to happen.”  
Tony stopped before his office door, “You're still thinking of taking of residency here aren't you.”  
Colin set his jaw, “I am.”  
Tony turned the handle and stepped back for Colin to enter, “Can't blame ya. Me, I'd miss my 'lectricity, my toys, favorite restaurant, my cars, flush toilets. You've developed a relationship with Destructo and his family. I get that. I do, but are you sure that loyalty runs both ways?”  
Colin stood in the middle of Stark's office, a million scenes running through his head. Fen's rite of passage, the purification ceremony, Odin's funeral and the way he'd been treated as one of the family. Laughing with them in their moments of joy, crying with them as he shared their grief, the countless talks with Loki and Eidra, their repeated wishes for him to remain on Asgard, playing with the children and there was also Chris's admonition that he alone could mend the coming rift whatever it might turn out to be. He couldn't walk away and leave them.  
“I think so but does it matter? I've only got to think of me own loyalty. You don't always have to receive in return what you give. Sometimes you do a thing because you want to, because you care.”  
Tony ran a finger under his eye, gave an exaggerated sniff, “Another Hallmark moment. You're killing me kid.”  
Colin frowned, jerked a thumb at his trunk sitting outside the office, “Right, that's me off. Can you store the trunk here till morning? I'll have the wagon brought round for it.”  
“Sure,” Tony hopped up to sit on his desk, “Before you run off to play happy family though, consider this. S.H.I.E.L.D has worked on both sides of the law before. Even if we were to dismantle them, destroy the files, what's to say they haven't been spending time and effort on the other side gathering all the data they need to build one of these tinker toys on their own? They know what technology these portals are built on too. If the higher ups demand they regain control of the situation they may well go looking for that little necklace. Picture this, Brenna sitting in her dorm room, eating popcorn, writing a term paper, the next moment, agents are tossing a sack over her head and dragging her off to one of the underground cells beneath their highrise?”  
“They'd be that stupid? They want a war that bad?”  
Tony waggled his forefinger in the air, “I never said they were smart from the get go, I said they might get desperate. Just tell Loki to deliver her when she travels to Midgard, keep the necklace safe here on Asgard or better yet, keep her in Asgard until we stabilize the situation.”  
“I will,” Colin nodded, fighting with himself not to blurt out where Brenna likely was at this very minute, “Now I'm going to head out. I'll be back tomorrow.”  
“Drive safe,” Tony waved to him, “Pull over if you get too tired.”  
Coin shook his head, shouldered his satchel and closed the office door behind him, a bounce in his step as he hurried toward the longhouse door. He would soon be home.

 

Without a horse, the walk seemed to take forever but at last as the mountains eclipsed the final rays of the sun, he turned down the road to the manor house. His feet were wet and freezing, his parka poor protection against the Asgardian winter.  
“Next time I'll fecking call ahead for a taxi,” he grumbled as the manor house came into view. The windows were mostly dark in the growing twilight save for a candle which seemed to be floating about the sitting room.  
Colin opened the door and stepped into the foyer, listening to the hushed voices, childish giggles emanating from the sitting room. He drew off the stiff parka, hanging it on the hooks by the door, lifted the satchel from its place on the floor and was about to head into the sitting room when his name drifted out of the darkness at the bottom of the stairs.  
He jumped, slapping a hand to his mouth to muffle his girlish shriek and pivoted about to see Loki emerge from the dark corner beside the stairs.  
“Come here,” Loki whispered, “Quickly!”  
Colin hurried over to him as a child's voice emerged from the sitting room.  
“Mama did you hear that?”  
Loki pulled Colin down to sit, their backs against the wall, “Forgive me. My family insisted upon playing hide and seek. I am the last victim. It is good to have you back, my friend.”  
“It's good to be back,” Colin whispered, “How did the holidays go?”  
But Loki held his hand up, barely visible in the dark shadows, “Hold. They are coming. I must run ere I am caught.”  
Colin smiled to himself, “I'll create a distraction if you like.”  
“No, I must make the attempt on my own or I shall be accused of cheating.”  
“Mama, I think Papa is in the foyer!”  
It was Cait. The light of the lantern drifted slowly toward them as Eidra's voice joined hers, “Remember you must touch him before he reaches the divan or he will win.”  
Loki moved to a crouch. The light was growing brighter. Colin could make out Loki's features now. Brighter still, lighting up his damp parka hanging by the door.  
“Papa, I know you are here,” Cait tittered.  
“Where?” came Astrid's reply.  
“Hush, Astrid.”  
Colin saw the lantern appear between the spindles of the railing, Eidra's hand holding the iron ring at the top just as Loki sprang to his feet.  
All at once everything was chaos, the children squealing with glee while Eidra gave an almighty shriek. Colin stood up just in time to see Cait back Loki into the archway of the sitting room, his hands high in the air as she wrapped her arms about his waist.  
“I win, I win! I caught you Papa!”  
“Remind me never to play hide and seek with you,” Colin laughed, “Yer too fast for us old folk.”  
Hearing Colin's voice, Cait whirled about, “Colin! Colin's home!”  
Eidra rushed over to Colin, holding the lantern out to the side, catching him in a one armed hug, “Colin, it is so good to have you back home again, I did not hear you come in. Oh my!” she stepped back, “You are freezing cold! Come into the sitting room and I will have Gretten warm some spiced cider for you.”  
Colin held his hands out to them, “Ah, let me change first. Me breeches are soaked.”  
Loki strode up to him, “Nonsense, I will have Hal draw a hot bath. You must warm yourself before you take ill. Had you sent word you were coming this night I would have had a horse waiting at the longhouses.”  
“I know but it slipped me mind and instead of spending another night at the encampment, I opted to walk.”  
“Hal!” Loki's call echoed through the manor, answered moments later by Hal's appearance at the sitting room archway, a candelabra in his hand.  
“Yes, Milord?”  
“Draw Master Denehy a hot bath upstairs will you? He has walked a distance in the snow.”  
“Right away, Milord,” Hal bowed, cast Colin a quick smile before hurrying back through the sitting room into the kitchen. Colin turned to the staircase, stopped and looked at Hal's retreating form.   
“Actually, I've a message for Beth. I'd like to deliver it first.”  
“By all means,” Eidra gestured toward the kitchen, “She was helping Gretten clean up after the evening meal.”

 

Colin walked into the kitchen just in time to see Gretten laughing at Beth whose hands were closed over her mouth.  
“Hey you two.”  
Gretten nodded to Colin, “It is good to have you back is it not, Beth?”  
Beth, however, wouldn't or couldn't face him, “Yes it is.”  
Colin ambled over to her, putting his arm around her shoulders, “Elizabeth Chapel. I have something for you.”  
He drew Beth over to the long work table where he unshouldered the satchel and set it down.  
“This was delivered to me on Christmas eve day,” Colin pulled the letter out and handed it to her, “So I suppose I should say Merry Christmas.”  
Beth sat down heavily on the bench, tearing at the envelope with trembling fingers while Colin winked at Gretten over her head.  
She lifted the letter out and began to read, her face crumbling as the seconds turned to minutes until she at last laid the papers on the table.  
“Six more months,” she gasped, “Mister Stark got me six more months!”  
“Aye. It should be enough time for what has to happen....to happen. Then we'll go from there.”  
Beth hauled herself up from the bench and caught Colin in a bear hug, “Oh my god! How can I thank you? You don't know what I've been going through. Ask Gretten!”  
“I caahnnn....im..agine,” Colin grunted as he felt his hand taken in a firm grip.  
“We cannot thank you enough. Whatever you need, you have but to ask. You will never go hungry for my part if I have anything to say,” Gretten rasped, his voice rough with emotion.  
“Thank you, thank you. For your part, keep this here in your things,” Colin picked the letter back up and folded it into Beth's hands, catching the glint of blue light as it played about the stone in her ring, “I'm going to have a bath and change out of these togs before I freeze to death.”  
Colin strode through the dining hall into the sitting room where Eidra was sitting on the divan. The children were nowhere to be seen.  
“I'll pop up for a bath and hurry back downstairs as soon as I can.”  
“Colin,” Eidra called, stopping him at the archway into the foyer, “Come here...I will take but a moment of your time.”  
Colin turned about, “Milady?”  
Eidra patted the divan cushion beside her, “I will be direct. Because I am a woman foremost, and a mother, do take this into consideration when practicing your answer.  
_“Shit! Shit, shit shit!”_  
“Fire away, Milady.”  
“The letter you brought to Beth, was it concerning her stay here on Asgard? I could not help but eavesdrop upon your conversation. I have always been possessed of acute hearing.”  
“It was. The college granted her a six month extension for her research. Grand of them, I say.”  
Eidra nodded, “Indeed, and the extension has nothing to do with her pregnancy?”  
A rush of adrenaline shot through his body. Suddenly he wasn't half as cold as he had been but he wasn't about to lie to her, not when faced with the naked truth.  
“It doesn't, Milady. Not to them anyway.”  
“Colin,” Eidra moaned, “Why did you not tell me of this?”  
“I didn't think anyone knew. How did you find out in the first place?” Colin leaned forward to peer through the dining hall though the kitchen door was closed.  
“People talk when they think no one is about but were I to doubt my ears I could not doubt my eyes. I have birthed six children. I know when a woman is with child Why did she not come to me?”  
Colin rubbed his chin, “She was terrified to say anything, she still is and I mean no disrespect but I wasn't going to toss her to the wolves. I hadn't any idea how anyone would react. Some of us...meaning my employers, would see this as a criminal act on her part. I could show you in my rule book the exact regulation she violated but I'm on her or rather their side. They met and fell in love. Now no matter where you come from, Asgard, Midgard, Alfheim, that means something. Why should she be shipped home and arrested for it?”  
“Whoever said anything of sending her back to Midgard?” Eidra regarded him, “Quite to the contrary. She is pregnant with a citizen of Asgard. She has the right to request asylum.”  
“Jesus, not that word again. It's already caused me enough trouble with Simon Foster, begging yer pardon, Milady,” Colin glanced around the room anxiously until Eidra laid a hand on his knee.  
“If you are looking for Loki, he is putting the children to bed. Do not worry.”  
“Does he know?” Colin winced, waiting for her response.  
“About Beth?” Eidra grinned, “Colin, he came to me with the same concern. I knew long before him.”  
Colin's stomach did another flip, “What did he say?”  
“He was upset at first but only because she had not taken the proper channels. If they were in love, they should have announced their union, their intention to court, to avoid such complications as this. Do you believe I would frighten her were I to speak with her about it?”  
Colin stifled a manic laugh, “Milady, she'll probably faint dead away but she'll get over it. She might like to know you're in her corner....I mean, you're behind her decision.”  
Eidra stood from the divan, Colin following suit, “Very well. I will speak to her. Go to your bath. We will meet you in the sitting room later.”  
Colin watched her until she disappeared into the dimly lit dining hall. Another worry had been taken from his shoulders. He felt lighter than he had in months as he took the stairs to the second floor two by two.

 

It took some time to fill the copper bathtub and Colin felt rather guilty. He'd been content with the wash basin or the occasional swim in the stream to keep himself clean but the stream was now frozen over. Yet, he would never have thought of asking permission to use such a private item but when he eased himself down into the hot water, he was struck by how sorely he missed the luxury of a good hot soak, it was heaven. He sat for a bit, started to doze, the steaming water leeching the cold from his body until it began to cool. At last, he reluctantly rose from the water, dried himself off and donned the fresh garments Hal had left on the chair beside the tub.  
He headed back down the stairs though he suspected Loki and Eidra had by now turned in for the evening. When he reached the sitting room, however, they were sitting before the fire, chalices in their hands.  
“Fetch a chair from the table,” Loki bent down to the floor where sat a pewter ewer and another cup, “Gretten has provided us with mulled cider.”  
Colin carried the chair to the fireplace and sat it down beside Loki who handed him the cup, filling it with hot cider.  
“Did you enjoy your visit home?”  
“I did that. I was happy to see me parents. I had a time of it when I had to return though. Ma put up a right fuss.”  
“As parents will. Did you receive any correspondence from your...employer while you were on Midgard perhaps?”  
_“Nothing like starting off with the bad news first,”_ Colin mused.  
“I didn't, no. Stark told me about what happened while I was gone though. I'm surprised I wasn't summoned back to Asgard if the truth be known.”  
“Whatever for?” Loki settled back in his chair, “A decision was made, a reply delivered. There was no need for you to return before your scheduled time.”  
Colin looked at Loki then at Eidra who seemed ill at ease, whether because of Beth or the situation with the longhouses, he couldn't yet ascertain, “Has there been any further correspondence between Midgard and the King?”  
“No.”  
“I see,” Colin sipped his cider, “Could I ask why the King decided to reject the proposal for more longhouses? Just to satisfy me curiosity.”  
Loki was silent for a moment, “As you have been honest with me, so shall I be with you.”  
Colin grimaced at the undeserved compliment, “I have tried my best.”  
“Thor rejected the request to build more longhouses for fear Midgard seeks to create a settlement here on Asgard. He believes more and more Midgardians will come here with their technology, their materialistic culture, their weapons until Asgard is transformed altogether into another Midgard. From there, this blight would spread through the realms. He refuses to set the spark to the kindling, therefore he decided against the longhouses.”  
Colin nodded, “What about the people here now? What about the portals?”  
“The people will soon return to Midgard,” Eidra murmured, “They are to stay only six moons at a time as you say.”  
“As for the portals,” Loki interjected, “They have served their purpose. They have proven Stark's idea worked. What further use is there for them?”  
Colin's mind was racing, “Scientific exploration. You can't learn about an entire culture in eight short months. Some ancient civilizations have been studied on Midgard for centuries...hundreds of years.”  
“Then we shall send Asgardian scholars to Midgard. There they will tell your Midgardian men of science all they need to know,” Loki drained his cup, “At the end of this project, we shall endeavor to come to an agreement. In light of this fact, you must accompany me to the palace on the morrow to speak with Thor.”  
“I've got me trunk to get at the longhouses....”  
Loki dismissed him with a wave, “I will send a wagon to fetch it.”  
Colin forced a smile, “As you wish, yer Highness but if the king's choice is made, what is there to talk about? Yer both in agreement aren't you?”  
Loki leaned over to Colin, setting his hand on the arm of the chair, “Come spring, our contract with the Midgardians will expire. We will then seek to craft a new arrangement. The agents, the men of science who work at the longhouses, Stark, the people sent to learn our ways, few of them have lived among us as closely as you have. I have watched you share our joys and our sorrows in equal measure and I believe you will speak with our best interests in mind because you have come to care about Asgard.”  
Colin was mute, unwilling to tell Loki an end to the project had never been considered and if Asgard pushed, Midgard might very well shove back and harder. In fact he expected it, the question was when. If Loki believed Colin could talk to his superiors on Midgard and make the problems vanish, he was giving credit where it was most certainly not due. He was no negotiator, even liaison had been a stretch and this was a much larger issue. Writing reports and smoothing relations between the encampment and the inhabitants of Asgard were nothing compared to convincing the leaders of the free world all was well and good with the nine realms.   
“Yer confidence in me is humbling and might I say, most warmly received, yer Highness. I'll do me best.”  
“As you always have,” Loki sat back in his chair, reaching across to take Eidra's hand, “Now please regale us with the details of your visit to Midgard.”  
Colin told them of his trip with his father to the nursing home, his grandfather's funeral, the joy at seeing his parents again while they listened politely, interjecting with questions, nodding at the appropriate times.  
“I also went on a date....”  
Eidra turned to Colin, “A date?”  
“My heart,” Loki craned his head around to look at her, “Do you recall Brenna speaking of going on dates with Chase and her Midgardian friends? It is an outing where courting couples meet, dine, enjoy each other's company.”  
“Oh yes. I had quite forgotten,” Eidra giggled, “So have you found a Midgardian mate then?”  
Colin shook his head, “No, I told Noni I'd call her when I visited Earth again. Really it's nothing serious.”  
“Noni. What a strange name.”  
“It's East Indian. Um, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to retire for the night. It's been a long day.”  
In truth he'd been trying not to think of Noni, the way he crept out of her apartment early the next morning, feeling like a shit because he'd not the courage to face her, to lie and tell her he would come back to Helen's Bay when his sole intention was to remain in Asgard. Now he couldn't get her out of his mind.  
“Indeed it has,” Loki stood, “Sleep well, my friend. We will ride on the morrow.”  
Colin rose from his chair, “Goodnight, yer Highness, Milady.”  
With a heavy tread, Colin ascended the stairs sure sleep would elude him tonight.


	72. 72

“Velos, it is winter, must you truly go? The cold will be unbearable,” Marwen stood at the door of their bedchamber, Maros at her hip as she watched Velos pack his satchel.  
“If the runes are being called together, I only wish to offer my help in Asgard's defense. We are all of us a part of the nine realms, we must present a united front,” Velos buckled the strap of the satchel.  
“But this could be all for nothing. We have heard of no danger, no threats to our world,” Marwen moaned, “Can you promise me you shall return straightaway if the fear is unfounded?”  
Velos shouldered the satchel, turned and took her face in his hands, “I shall run the entire distance home. Now will you do as I ask and stay at my father's stronghold until I am returned again?”  
Marwen's face crumpled though she nodded and Velos pointed to Chalar, “See that she heeds me. Pack her things.”  
Chalar scrambled from her place behind Marwen while Velos stroked Maros' hair, “Behave for your mother, my little Jotunn.”  
Maros rubbed his eyes, giving a soft coo as Velos kissed Marwen's forehead, “Have no fear, my honeybee. All will be well.”  
Marwen sat down on their bed and hugged Maros close, listening to Velos' footfalls on the stone steps, redoubling her effort to dispel the feeling of dread which now had settled in the pit of her stomach.

 

Surtr and a contingent of guards accompanied the party out of the valley up through the high ground, nearly to the border of Muspelheim before Surtr called his company to a halt.  
“We will go no further. If danger be on the horizon, we must secure our inroads,” Surtr set his great hand atop Velos's head, “...and await the return of my heir, foolish boy that he be.”  
“The Asgardians are our allies and our friends. I only wish to visit them, see with mine own eyes that nothing untoward is going on.”  
“Mmm,” Surtr grunted, “Only do not overstay your welcome.”  
“Indeed,” Velos closed his eyes, “Fare you well, Father.”  
“Fare you well, my son.”  
As Surtr and his guards made their way down the road toward the valley, Velos turned to Simon.  
“Now to Asgard?”  
“Yes but we have to fetch Lelia first,” Simon spurred his horse forward, the others following suit.  
“Lelia?”  
“Simon's betrothed,” Wickett piped up, “She has been waiting in Melos for Simon to return from the land of the fire Jotunn.”  
“...so she might give him a proper beating,” Pelinor muttered, bringing snickers from the rest of the party.  
“I've no doubt I'm going to receive a right thrashing,” Simon frowned, glancing at Velos who rode even with him, “I left her behind in fear for her safety.”  
“I would do the same with Wen,” Velos nodded, “No one can fault you for your concern.”   
“Can't they now?” Simon chuckled as the rest of the party burst into fresh laughter, “You'll see. When we arrive, you'll see.”

 

“I suppose I could spare ya for the morning,”Perth grumbled, setting before her upon the bar top the tankard he'd been filling, “But I need ya here to serve...and to dance.”  
“You have Sigur.”  
Perth shook his head, “'Tis your dancing brings the mens to the tavern.”  
“ All I'm asking for is one day. I'll be back by nightfall.”  
In truth, Eris wasn't sure how long she was going to be gone. Sulyir hadn't told her how far they were going to be traveling, only that it lay in the countryside beyond the city. If she was late, she would simply think up a lie, they'd been caught in a snowstorm (a very distinct possibility), they were held up by thieves, they became lost on their way back to the city....  
“Sigur is slow, painfully so,” Perth scowled at the young girl bussing a table across the way, “You could do the work of three a her.”  
Eris glanced over her shoulder at the table by the door where Sulyir was sitting, watching her.  
“I'll give you the entire take from my next show.”  
“I've heard that before,” Perth twisted the stopper of the keg on the bar beside him, letting the dark ale flow into another tankard, “Come th' next show, I'll have forgotten and you'll not be reminding me, I'll wager.”  
Eris chewed her lip. She'd promised Sulyir she would go with him, had to go with him if she weren't to spend the rest of her days here in this place dancing for money, playing the tavern whore.  
“Write it down then,” Eris looked about the bar for a scrap of parchment, “You won't forget. I'll remind you. Please?”  
Perth's gaze slid to Sulyir, “You're going off with that farmhand.”  
Eris had done enough bullshitting for the night, “Yes, so what?”  
“He's an off worlder too.”  
“Then we'll be perfect together,” Eris cried, “I'm only asking for one day.”  
Perth set the tankard down hard, “You're a fool if you trust him.”  
Eris lay her head down on the bar with a defeated sigh. She was a fool. She knew it. But she was desperate.  
“Very well. Upon your head be it,” Perth sighed, “Take th' whole day but arm yourself afore ya go. Don't be a fool altogether.”  
Eris brought her head up to grin at Perth, “I'll be safe....and thank you.”  
She rushed from the bar, missing Perth's hard stare at Sulyir.

 

The day had dawned gray, making the cold morning seem positively frigid. Eris had pulled two layers of socks over her feet before she'd donned her boots. Heavy breeches, thick mittens, a tunic and a jacket beneath a woolen cloak completed the warmest winter weather gear she could manage and still the cold found its way beneath the layers to sting her skin.  
Sulyir was waiting for her in the street before the tavern, pacing back and forth. When she emerged from the tavern, a smile split his face.  
“I thought you'd changed your mind.”  
“Nope, just making sure I don't freeze to death. Are we ready?”   
Sulyir held up his hand, waving her toward the alley beside the tavern. Staring out from the shadows were two soft brown eyes. Sulyir reached into the gloom and tugged on the reins of a dappled brown bay who stepped out into the street.  
“We will ride to our destination. The horse will keep you warm.”  
Eris grinned. Not since she'd arrived here on Asgard had she been happier to see a horse. She climbed into the saddle, felt Sulyir mount up behind her and they were off at a trot through the streets of Asgard.

The heat of the horse beneath her was better than any blanket. So warm was she in fact, that she began to sweat, baring her shoulders to the cool air.  
“How far is this place?”  
“Not much further,” Sulyir pointed to the road ahead of them, “We will turn from the road at the top of the next hill.”  
As they left the well trod path and stepped into the snow cover, their progress slowed considerably and Sulyir dismounted to guide the horse along.  
“The portal is within the copse of trees just ahead.”  
Eris spied a group of tall trees, their bark dark against the brilliant snow. Held within their center, a shimmer, a distortion floated, rippling the trunks of the trees behind it, silent on the winter air.  
Sulyir reached up to her and she took his hand as she dropped to the ground.  
“This is it? This is where you arrived in Asgard?”  
Sulyir nodded, unhooking the satchel from the horse's flank and turned to Eris , “This is a doorway to my world, Jotunheim. Are you ready?”  
Eris looked about the snow dusted forest, the gray sky, then to the copse of trees again. Was this really a step forward? She was about to follow a man she had known for all of two months into a world she might never return from, where they might be killed as soon as they passed through the portal. She'd never been more frightened in her life.  
“I'm afraid.”  
Sulyir smiled, wagged his fingers at her, “I am here to protect you. You have nothing to fear. You will be our deliverance.”  
With a surge of adrenaline, she reached out, grabbed his hand tight and they stepped through.

 

The frigid air that assaulted them took Eris's breath away and she stumbled forward, saved from dropping to her knees by Sulyir who held her upright. She covered her mouth with her cloak.  
“Jesus Christ, are you sure we aren't at the South Pole?” she mumbled.  
“I know of no pole in any direction. We are in Jotunheim and we must reach shelter before you freeze to death or before my brethren find us.”  
“Don't tell me. The outcome would be the same,” she shuddered, distressed when Sulyir didn't respond to her jab.  
“Come, we must reach Menyir's fortress. There we will present ourselves and our plan to restore Jotunheim to glory.”  
“You got some real grand ideas, Mister,” came Eris's muffled voice from behind the cloak, “If I didn't know better, I'd think you were politicking for votes.”  
Sulyir cocked his head at her but she was too cold to explain herself, “Never mind. Let's get going.”  
Eris took in her surroundings as they made their way across the frozen tundra. In the distance were steel gray mountains rising from the endless field of white to blend with the gray sky overhead. If the mountains held Menyir's fortress, she would surely freeze to death before she laid eyes on him. She was getting tired.  
“Isn't there anywhere we could rest?”  
Sulyir stopped, looked at his satchel, “I could carry you.”  
“Ha! Honey, I could carry you easier than you could carry me. You're a hundred pounds in a downpour. Thanks for the offer though,” Eris forced her feet to move again.  
“In my natural state ….wait,” Sulyir set the satchel on the snow and opened it, “Promise me you shall not be afraid.”  
Before she could ask what there was to be afraid of, Sulyir was drawing out two iron bracelets, clasping one on his right wrist, then one on his left. As the bracelet locked into place, he began to grow, to change, his skin darkening, turning a cerulean blue, ornate markings breaking out upon his face, chest, arms, legs until he was covered with them. Eris, meanwhile, had fallen to the ground, her mouth open in a silent scream. Now as he bent down to her, she began to scramble away from him.  
“Eris. It is me. Sulyir!”  
The name echoed in her head, smashing into, shattering the image that had been the handsome man with the sandy colored hair. As he reached down to her, she managed a squeak, felt his hands close about her waist and she knew no more....

….”Eris! Eris wake up!” hissed the voice in her ear, “They have seen us.”  
Eris raised her head to look around, felt strong hands supporting her as she swayed above the frozen ground. She glanced up at Sulyir's face and her head started to swim again.  
“Who, what?”  
“We have reached the fortress gates. The guards are come to challenge us. If they will not take us to Menyir, it will be left to you to help us.”  
“Help us?” she murmured, “You're a goddamn giant. Can't you big your way out of a tight spot?”  
“I am one Jotunn with naught but the stone dagger with which I left this realm. There is little I can do against an entire contingent.”  
Eris looked about them at the barren plain upon which they now stood. An immense castle, dark with age, forboding, looking as if it had risen from the stony ground along with the mountains in whose shadow it stood, dominated the sky line. High overhead rose immense stone spires which seemed to touch the lowest clouds.  
“Who goes there?!” called one of the guards, a barrel chested jotunn dressed in dark metal plate armor, leather breeches and rope sandals.   
“How can he stand it? His feet have to be frozen solid,” Eris muttered.  
“Who goes there?!” the guard called again, lowering the iron pike in his hand, striding toward them, “Stand and be recognized!”  
Sulyir set Eris down and she winced at the rough ground beneath her freezing feet. Behind the Jotunn guard she could see a short bridge spanning some sort of crevice she was certain would be a lot deeper than it looked from where they were standing. Beyond the bridge was a set of tall stone door, iron rings driven into them for handles.  
“Follow my lead,” Eris whispered, “Take my hand....ow! Not so tight! Now state your name and ask to see Menyir. If they refuse, be ready to run and don't let go of me.”  
She looked up at Sulyir's panicked face, “Go on.”  
But before he could open his mouth, the guard roared, “SULYIR! Traitor of the realm! Enemy of Menyir! Your return will see you dead before nightfall.”  
“I...I demand to speak to Menyir!” Sulyir rasped, “I...have...”  
“You demand nothing!” the guard was even with them now, fully a head and shoulders taller than Sulyir, the tip of his pike pointing at Sulyir's chest, “The king will gladly see your head atop this spear. This is the only way you will gain an audience.”  
Eris squeezed Sulyir's hand as she let herself fade, felt the transfer of energy as Sulyir joined her.  
“Where in Hel did he go?” the guard cried pivoting about to face the remaining guard who now stood at the ready by the stone doors.  
Eris smiled at the guard's confusion though she said nothing as they raced over the bridge ahead of him. She had the briefest glimpse over the edge into the crevice, confirming her fears as she spied a chasm filled with a cold blue phosphorescent light.  
“OPEN THE DOORS!” the guard cried, “WE MUST WARN THE KING!”  
_“Dumbass,”_ Eris thought to herself as a heavy clanking sound filled the air. The stone doors began to swing wide and they hurried through the archway into the fortress proper.  
Eris yanked Sulyir to one side, letting the guard race past. Behind them, the doors slid shut again with a heavy thunk.  
When her eyes adjusted, she became aware of the same glow she'd glimpsed in the chasm beneath the bridge. There were lanterns hanging all about the walls wherein sat blue chunks of rock, alight with varying shades of blue from turquoise to robin's egg, midnight to dusk completing the glacial feel of the fortress.   
_“Might as well come to terms with it,”_ she sighed to herself, _"We're going to die."_  
Eris tugged on Sulyir's hand, “Are you sure we shouldn't just turn around and go back to Asgard?”  
“No!” came Sulyir's fierce whisper out of the air, “We are here. We will make him see reason or die trying.”  
“Hey,” Eris hissed, “I don't want to die, do you hear me? I didn't come here on some goddamn quest. I came here to advance my personal cause and to help you with yours. If they swing a noose in my direction, I'm running...”  
“Hush,” Sulyir growled, “If they hear us, they will give us reason to run. I will take you to the king. If he will not listen to our pleas, you may run and be welcome to it. As for me I will die on Jotunheim. Come.”  
“Don't be stupid,” Eris yanked at his hand, “Run with me, we'll find another way.”  
“There is no other way,” came Sulyir's voice from overhead as they started down the long corridor ahead of them.

 

She followed Sulyir through the fortress, her arm aching with the effort to keep hold of his hand especially after a couple close encounters, one when they'd rounded a corner and he'd had to yank her out of the way of a line of guards hurrying in the direction they come from, another when a door off the corridor they were standing in was flung open and a group of Jotunn spilled out. They'd had to press themselves to the wall and even then they passed far too close for Eris' comfort. They'd been bumped, jostled around but in the end no one paid attention to them, believing they'd merely run into their fellow Jotunn.  
“Who the hell were they?” Eris whispered when they were able to move again.  
“The Council of Elders.”  
Eris glanced over her shoulder at the retreating throng, their dark robes, heavy metal chestplates hanging about their necks, “Did you know any of them?”  
Sulyir's voice grew low, “Yes, my father was among them.”  
Eris frowned. She hated not being able to see his expression. Was he sad, angry? They continued along the eerily lit corridors until she felt Sulyir tug at her hand.  
“We are here.”  
They had stopped before a tall arched open doorway through which she could see the robed Elders standing before an ornately carved black stone throne. Upon this cold throne sat a Jotunn dressed in gleaming obsidian armor plate. Across his knees lay an immense sword, the blade gray polished steel, the hilt looking to be made of hematite.   
His black hair was pulled back into a topknot from which sprang a long ponytail. His face was thin, the bone structure approaching delicate though his heavy brow and hard ruby red eyes belied any sense of frailty. For a giant, he seemed average. As tall as Sulyir perhaps but not particularly imposing. In fact, Eris's concept of giants had been forever changed as soon as she'd laid eyes on Sulyir. But Sulyir had been kind to her, gentle. He'd listened to her with great patience. What sat upon the granite throne before them seemed devoid of any such admirable assets.  
“What do we do now?” she breathed.  
“We succeed or we die.”  
“Run....not die...remember that,” and then she was being pulled into the cavernous room before them.   
“When I let go of your hand, make yourself known.”  
With each step they took, she grew more nervous, her hand had started to sweat. She listened to the impassioned voices of the Council Elders as they passed by, realizing all at once she couldn't understand them.  
She squeezed Sulyir's hand hard. How was she going to communicate with them? With the king?  
They came to a halt in the space between the throne and the Elders. Without warning, Sulyir's hand was gone. She looked up at him, heard the cries, the gasps as Menyir stood from his throne, pulling herself together as Sulyir began to speak.  
“Oh great Menyir! Overlord of the Severn Plains, scourge of the nine realms, ruler of all Jotunheim. I come before you to beg audience!”  
Menyir was now on his feet, his sword drawn back, “Sulyir! I know not from whence you came or how you have appeared before me but the only thing left of you to beg for would be your life an' that in vain!”  
Eris looked from Sulyir to Menyir and back in frustration eager for them to address her. There was movement from the corner of her eye and all at once, she leaped toward Sulyir with a screech. One of the Elders was bent forward staring at her.  
“Who in the name of Laufey is this?”  
Menyir paused, “What say you Elder Dran? Speak!”  
“My great King, the traitor has brought a human into Jotunheim!”  
Sulyir guided Eris to stand before him, “I have, a human who will help us to realize our former glory. She is the reason we were able to stand in your presence undetected, the reason your guards now scramble to find us.”  
As Menyir peered down at her, she elbowed Sulyir's thigh, “What the fuck are you saying?”  
A smile spread across Menyir's face revealing a set of pointed teeth which brought Neve to her mind with heartbreaking clarity.  
“He is saying you are responsible for throwing my fortress into chaos, avoiding my guards, invading my inner chamber. Is this true?”  
Eris blanched, “You speak English.”  
Menyir laughed then, an ominous sound, “I speak many tongues. To me you speak Midgardian, particularly from the region you would call North...America? Yes. Your people are allies with the Asgardians.”  
Eris's mouth dropped open. Everything was quickly becoming surreal.  
Menyir lifted his sword again, brandishing it in Sulyir's direction, “You have made a poor choice of traveling companion, Sulyir. Not only have you returned from banishment, which affords a penalty of death, but you have brought an ally of our bitterest enemy into our midst. GUARDS!”  
“Wait!,” Sulyir leapt forward, “I beg you to listen. I have a way to restore the casket to our world, to take it from the Asgardians and bring it here to you.”  
Menyir waved a hand in the air. Eris heard the heavy clank of armor, the thunderous tread of feet and turned about to see the Elders part the way behind them as a brace of guards moved into the empty space, The time to run was all but gone.  
“Take them to the chasm and toss them in.”  
Eris felt sick to her stomach. If she didn't disappear now, they would have hold of her and she'd be screwed. Even though she could disappear, she was still solid. Invisible or not, they would throw her into that crevice but if she left Sulyir, they'd kill him and she would wander the tundra until she froze to death. The truth of Sulyir's words hit her then. As soon as she'd stepped through that portal, there'd been only two options, succeed or die trying.  
“Sulyir speaks the truth! I can do what he says!” Eris cried when the guard's gaunlet clamped onto her arm, “I can deliver the cask to you!”  
Menyir's laughter echoed through the immense room and she was hauled off her feet, “You are but one person against the might of the Asgardian army. Even were you able to perform such a miracle, why would you do so?”  
“She has agreed to help us,” Sulyir called over his shoulder as the guards began to shuttle them from the throne room, “In exchange for the dark prince Loki!”  
All at once, Menyir's hand shot up into the air, “Hold!”


	73. 73

The last thing Eris glimpsed as the stone door swung shut were the glittering red eyes of the Council Elders staring at them while they followed Menyir into the antechamber.   
Menyir sheathed his sword with a smooth click, sat down in a tall plain stone chair and gestured to a black polished stone bench across from him, “Sit,”  
Eris stared at the waist high structure which looked to have been dragged here from Stonehenge, “I'll stand if it please your Highness.”  
Menyir gave a wave of his hand, “What care I how you spend your final moments? Tell me now Midgardian, have you made a bargain with this traitor?”  
Eris nodded, “He promised me that if I were to deliver the casket of the Jotunns to him, he would see Loki was mine.”  
Menyir's eyes flickered to Sulyir, “And did he say how he was to perform such a difficult task? For my brother is prisoner to an enchantment so deep, to wake him from it would tear apart the soul of all he has become, wipe clean the winters he has seen. Would you so wish to possess such a tortured being?”  
“Your brother? Loki is your...”  
“Brother, yes, and second in line to the kingdom of Jotunheim. Does it surprise you? Did Sulyir not tell you of Loki's parentage? Of the war with Asgard? How Odin saw fit to decimate our realm, cutting down the King and Queen, forcing me to ascend the throne, little more than a child myself. Odin took....nay, he tore Loki from our mother's arms, spiriting him away to Asgard where he placed the child under an enchantment so powerful he has lived his whole life in harmony with our hated enemies. All of this so Odin might maintain the title of Allfather, ruler of the nine realms, secure in his domination while our most precious possessions remain locked within his palace.”  
Eris clasped her hands together before her mostly to keep them from landing across her mouth in a state of shock, “If I were to sneak into the palace, steal this cask, and deliver it to you. How would you hold up your end of the bargain?”  
Menyir snorted, “I have made no such deal as of yet.”  
“But if....If you did. If Loki is under such a powerful enchantment, what can you do to free him?”  
Menyir bent down to stare at her, “Why do you want him?”  
Eris stood there. He was beautiful but that wasn't quite enough. He was a prince. _“Look deeper.”_  
Was is jealousy? The desire to possess a man of such strength, integrity. To make him look at her the way he looked at his perfect little wife, his perfect children. She'd been searching for happiness, contentment, wealth almost since she'd been born. Oh how glorious it would be never again having to sell herself for the next day's meal. Never having to pretend the fat, balding business man and father of three pulling her into his lap was the sexiest guy she'd ever laid eyes on.  
“Why do you want him, Midgardian?”  
Eris returned Menyir's gaze, “Do I have to have a reason?”  
When Menyir smiled, she wasn't sure if she'd answered correctly or not.  
Menyir sat back in his chair to regard Sulyir, “Now to what purpose did the traitor return from exile?”  
Sulyir stepped forward, “As I have said, I wish to restore the power of Jotunheim to its rightful place. I wish to leave that insufferable realm behind.”  
“You seek a pardon in exchange for the casket?” Menyir laced his fingers together across his chest with a low chuckle, “I see no reason why such an arrangement could not be made provided you are actually able to succeed in such a task. There is one looming question however. Once you deliver this most treasured possession and you are beholden to the Midgardian, you must then find a way to unite her with her prince.”  
Sulyir nodded, swallowed hard, “I have thought long upon it.”  
“Go on,” Menyir shot him a magnanimous smile, “Please enlighten me.”  
But Sulyir looked to Eris, “I would speak with the king in private.”  
Eris felt the hairs at her neck prickle, “Wait, anything you say can be said in front of me.”  
Menyir clapped his hands together and the antechamber door swung open as two guards strode through to stand at attention.  
“Take the Midgardian woman from my chamber until I summon you again. See she is comfortable.”  
Eris grabbed for Sulyir's hand, “What the fuck is going on? Goddamn you! I should have known!You're no different than the Johns back home!”  
When one of the guards took her by the arm and started to lead her away, she let herself drop to dead weight though it slowed not the guards one bit.  
“Sulyir! What are you doing? SULYIR!”  
When the door was at last closed again, Menyir looked down at Sulyir, “You have angered her. Perhaps she will not be so tractable when next you meet.”  
Sulyir shrugged, “I will tell her there were secrets she must not be privy to.”  
“Secrets. And are there as such?”  
“Yes,” Sulyir moved closer to Menyir's chair, sitting down on the bench across the way, “But not the ones she would suspect. You see, Eris may be the key to the nine realms. The Midgardians have come to Asgard, not through the Bifrost but by the magic of something she calls a portal. It allows the Midgardians to cross between worlds such as ours on different plains without passing between the gates of Asgard.”  
Menyir was now leaning forward, hands on the arms of his chair, “Continue.”  
“The portals are able to be built by men of science. One in particular which she calls Simon has the knowledge to create them. Were we to steal back the casket, invade Asgard and find this Midgardian, we could place these portals in any realm we chose and we would have the ability to go where we wished.”  
Menyir nodded, tapping his chin, “And what of the Midgardians. When we arrived in Asgard, would they not come to the aid of their allies?”  
“Not if we were to destroy the existing portals. I have seen the longhouses wherein they sit. Our warriors could take them with ease.”  
Menyir rose from his chair and began to pace the floor, “No doubt they would be heavily guarded. How do you propose to reach them?”  
Sulyir tapped his wrist, “Eris has what she calls a marker. She can summon the portal from anywhere and it will open. We would come through, decimate the longhouses and lay siege to Asgard itself.”  
Menyir swung about to point at Sulyir, “If we succeed, what then of King Thor and your Midagardian's object of desire, Loki?”  
Sulyir stood to join him, matching his pace, “The bracelets are made from the same metal which surrounds the casket. Once we have seized the palace, subdued their army, we will place the bracelets upon Loki's wrists to break the enchantment. He should be extremely malleable to you.....and to her. You could bring him home to Jotunheim, restore him as second heir to the realm. We could control the Bifrost, harness the ability to build more portals and Eris would have what she wished for in the bargain. As for Thor, he will be broken. Divide the two to conquer all.”  
Menyir sat back down in the chair again, “You make a convincing argument for the most part but hatred and rage lie buried deep within the heart of a Jotunn for the Asgardians and their friends. Perhaps he would kill her e'er he was restored to his true form.”  
Sulyir gave a rueful laugh, “Do not underestimate Eris. She too has the power to control men. You must trust me on this.”  
“And what if he would not willingly submit to us?” Menyir shook his head, “Perhaps he would rather die than return to his heritage. How will you sway his hand then?”  
“He has a family.”

 

When the door to the antechamber opened and Sulyir walked out, Eris was waiting for him.  
“You bastard! Sonofabitch bastard! What was so secret you couldn't say it in front of me?”  
After a couple blows with the guards looking on in amusement, Sulyir was able to catch hold of her hands, “Listen to me. I was only assuring your end of the bargain would be honored. I did not want you in there where you might say something wrong.”  
“Fuck you! What did you tell that overgrown Smurf?!”  
Sulyir tilted his head, “What is..?”  
“What did you TELL HIM?!”  
“I promised him you would be able to do what you claimed. I swore upon my life he could trust us, “ Sulyir eased his grip, felt her relax, “I spoke to him as a Jotunn.”  
“It's not like I would've been able to understand you anyway,” she yanked her wrists free, “You're still a bastard for not telling me what you were doing, though.”  
“Forgive me. Please.”  
Feeling the guards eyes upon her, Eris moved closer to Sulyir, “So now what do we do?”  
“We return to Asgard to keep our promise....so do tell me, what is a Smurf?”

 

Colin had to agree with Tony. The silence was unnerving. In the very least, Colin expected someone to send him a report on Thor's refusal upon further Midgardian development in Asgard but after he'd ridden to the palace that next day for an audience with the King about his decision, it was as if the powers that be at home had thrown up their hands in defeat and returned to their desks to draw up new plans.   
_“Maybe they've stopped trusting you,”_ Tony mused, _“Maybe they think you've gone native. How long has it been since you've talked to Lily?”_  
“Colin, you have barely touched your food.”  
Colin looked up. Loki was sitting across the table from him, his fork halfway to his mouth.  
“Do you want Gretten to fix you something different?”  
“No, no. This is grand,” Colin picked up his knife and sliced into the stack of buckwheat cakes, “I've stuff on me mind is all.”  
“Papa, Astrid is sticking out her tongue at me!” Cait cried.   
Colin glanced at Astrid who by then was sitting there with a beatific look upon her face, her eyes wide with apprehension.  
“If I am to punish one, I must punish both for they have been at it from the moment they sat down to the table,” Loki sighed and Colin suppressed a laugh as both children gasped in unison.  
“Perhaps the evening meal will be taken in the kitchen with me tonight,” Eidra glared at Cait then at Astrid, “So that we might practice our manners.”  
“EIDRA!”   
The screech from the sitting room startled Loki and Eidra to their feet. Colin twisted in his chair to see Ingrid rush into the dining hall, “Eidra! Oh come quickly! I think Vesta is losing the baby!”  
Colin shoved his chair backward and was off at a trot as Eidra dropped her napkin to the table, “Where is she?”  
“In the upstairs hall with Hal,” Ingrid cried, “What shall we do?”  
Cait was out of her chair, hurrying toward the sitting room but Loki's voice froze her in mid stride, “Cait, return to the table at once! Helgi will you see to it the children finish their meal?”  
“Of course. Poor Vesta,” Helgi held out her arms to Cait, “Come here pet, Fen fetch Edie before she tumbles from the chair.”  
Edie had climbed up to her seat and was holding out her hands for Ingrid. When Fen lifted her from the chair and set her in Helgi's lap, she let out an indignant squeak.  
“Fen, I want you to ride to Cole,” Eidra called over her shoulder as she disappeared into the sitting room, “Fetch the physician at once. The midwife as well.”

When Colin reached the top of the stairs, he spied Hal kneeling beside Vesta who was sitting on the floor, back to the wall, face white as milk, twisted into a grimace, a pile of sheets toppled across the floor beside her.   
At last Ingrid and Eidra reached the second floor landing where Eidra bent down beside Colin, “Bring her into my bedchamber. Ingrid fetch the sheets, we shall need them.”  
As Colin bent down to slide his arm under Vesta's legs he noticed the dark red bloom upon her at her waist, extending down her skirt.  
“I told her we should not hope for too much,” Hal grunted as they lifted Vesta into the air, “We were enough for each other.”  
Before they were halfway to the bed, Vesta stiffened with a wail, “NOOOO! Please, gods!NOO!”  
They stumbled forward, maneuvering the bedchamber doorway, Colin struggling to maintain his hold on her until they were able to deposit her in the bed before another contraction struck.  
“Listen, I'm going to ride for the encampment. I'll bring the doctor back with me,” Colin patted Hal's shoulder before heading for the door but before he could step out into the hall, Vesta cried, “No! No! Hal please, Colin no help from the Midgardians!”  
Loki appeared in the doorway though he came no further, “Fen is riding to Cole to fetch Kane and the widow Circe.”  
“I should get the doctor from the encampment,” Colin stole a glance at the bed, “But she doesn't want their help.”  
Vesta was moaning now, pulling at Hal's arm, “They will take me to Midgard. I do not want to go!”  
“They're not going to take her anywhere,” Colin called to Hal, “Will you tell her that, fer Chrissake.”  
“If she refuses, it is her choice,” Loki retreated into the hallway, beckoning Colin to follow him.  
“She's gonna lose the baby if she already hasn't,” Colin whispered as Vesta let out another loud cry.  
“Ingrid!” Eidra cried, “Bring my shears from my sewing basket, cut away her dress!”  
Vesta let out another moan which stretched into a scream.  
“I can't stay up here and listen to this,” Colin muttered, heading down the hall to the stairs. When he reached the foyer however, another cry echoed through the manor. Without further consideration, he continued on out the front door.

 

  
“Doctor DeSalle?” the agent called through the tent flap, “Agent Denehy is here. He says there's an emergency.”   
The doctor emerged from his tent, slipping his glasses onto the bridge of his nose when he spied Colin, “Is it Brynn?”  
“No, it's the maid, Vesta. She's miscarrying her baby. She needs your help.”  
“Ah. She wasn't much over five months was she? I'll fetch a permission slip from Mister Stark...”  
“To fuck with Stark. Grab yer bag and let's get going. I'll field Stark's complaints. He'll understand.”  
DeSalle cast a cursory glance toward the longhouses before ducking back inside the tent, emerging a minute late toting a red backpack with a white cross emblazoned on the back, “This is all on you then, Denehy. Stark's edgy enough without having his employees breaking the rules.”  
“Fine, fine. Now come on before we're held up again,” Colin put a hand to DeSalle's back, guiding him down the long row of tents toward the gatehouse, “You've a life to save.”

 

By the time they arrived in the manor dooryard it was a little past the noon hour and a light snow had started to fall. An unfamiliar carriage stood tied up outside the front door. Colin could only surmise it must be the doctor from Cole. Upon entering the foyer, Colin stopped to listen. The house was silent. He motioned the doctor inside with a finger to his lips.  
“Master Denehy, Doctor DeSalle,” came a voice from above. Colin looked up to the second floor balcony where Loki stood staring down at them, “ Colin, you disobeyed Vesta's wishes.”  
Colin felt his face grow hot, “I did that, yer Highness but I did so out of concern for her health as well as that of her baby.”  
“There is nothing to be done for the child. It was stillborn, a son.”  
Colin bowed his head, “I'm truly sorry. Could the doctor have a look at Vesta just to make sure she's alright?”  
Loki looked over his shoulder down the hallway, “Kane and the midwife are here attending to her but seeing as the doctor has been obliged to come such a long distance at your behest, he may make his best effort.”  
They trotted up the stairs to where Loki stood on the landing, “The door at the end of the hallway before you is where she lies.”   
Loki stopped Colin as the doctor continued forward.  
“I am disappointed in you, Colin.”  
Colin stared down the hallway where Hal leaned against the wall beside the bedchamber door, face in his hands, “I accept that.”  
“As you must. Whyfor did you go against Vesta's, nay, against my wishes and bring your Midgardian doctor here?”  
“Doctor DeSalle takes care of yer son,” Colin muttered, “Don't tell me you don't trust him.”  
“This is not about trust,” Loki growled and Colin was compelled to take a step back, “It is about honoring a request from someone out of respect for that person. I am well aware the Midgardians consider our way of life inferior, even savage but we have lived this way for many thousands of seasons. I believe you brought the doctor here upon the premise of superior intellect, thinking he would be able to do more for her than could Kane and while that may well be the case, your reason for doing so gives me pause. I was under the assumption you were of a mind to remain here on Asgard, to become a citizen of the realm, now I am left with a question. Why?”  
Before Colin could react, Loki pivoted about, striding down the hallway toward the bedchamber. Colin stood there for a long time, listening to the distant voices until at last, he retreated down the stairs to sit at the dining hall table, watching the light fade from the day.   
After some time, the kitchen door creaked open and Colin looked up to see Beth peeking out into the dining hall.  
“Oh I thought everyone was upstairs. How's it going?”  
Colin shrugged, “I don't know.”  
Beth slipped through the door and walked over to the table, “What's wrong?”  
“Nothing's wrong,” Colin ran his fingers through his hair, “Nothing a'tall.”  
“Alrighty then, I guess I'll tell Gretten to hold the evening meal a bit longer,” Beth backed toward the kitchen door as Colin laid his head on his arms.

 

“Colin?.....Colin?”  
A firm hand shook him by the shoulder. Groaning at the stiffness in his neck, he sat upright to see Doctor DeSalle looking down at him with Kane at his side.  
“There wasn't anything we could do for Vesta except make her comfortable.”  
Colin closed his eyes, laid his head back against the chair, “I fucked up for nothing. Lovely.”  
“I gave her Vervain to make her sleep,” Kane added, “So she would dream her way into the next world.”  
“How's Hal?” Colin sighed.  
“He's in shock,” DeSalle glanced up at the ceiling, “We tried to send him to his cottage to lie down but he won't budge from Vesta's side. They're taking care of her now, the women are. There's nothing more to do here.”  
Colin nodded, pushed away from the table, “I'll take you back to the camp, I've just got to fetch me things from my room.”  
“Your things?” DeSalle called to Colin as he hurried through the sitting room.  
“Aye,” Colin replied, “I'll be right down.”  
In his room, Colin packed his satchel with his tablet, journal, the book from his grandfather, a couple changes of clothes and slipped quietly down the stairs. He felt horrible not offering his condolences to Hal, not at least telling someone, Gretten, Helgi, Beth, that he was going to stay at the longhouses but in order of importance at the moment, taking a sabbatical to sort himself was the least of their concern.   
He ushered DeSalle out into the evening air shutting the door behind them. The snow had stopped falling and the moon cast its cold blue glow over the landscape, lighting their way as they headed toward the main road and the encampment.


	74. 74

Sulyir was getting frustrated with her, she could see it. Ever since they'd returned from Jotunheim with the possibility of his pardon made a reality, he'd been pushing her to set their plan into motion. She would point out at least a hundred ways everything could go wrong, he would soothe her, try to build her confidence but all she could see was the very real prospect of prison, whether it be here or at home on Earth, if she failed. What if she were thrown into the cells beneath the palace and was unable to affect her escape or she couldn't find the reliquary? She couldn't exactly ask anyone where it was.  
And then there was the casket itself. She had never been very strong. She might find the casket only to discover it weighed too much for her to carry. What if she touched the casket and was frozen to the spot, or worse, left there for the Guardian to take care of. Sulyir laughed at this though he'd brought her a pair of leather gloves the next evening for her concern, reassuring her she would do fine, plying her with the reward when she completed her task.   
There were so many variables, so many ways for everything to go horribly wrong but at last she promised him she would try. Soon, very soon, she would find her way into the palace cells.

 

“Move closer to the lantern, Lelia. You're losing the light,” Finch murmured when she spied Lelia squinting at the tunic she was stitching together.  
“Me Ma was the seamstress in our family,” Lelia sighed holding the garment up before her, “She could stitch together a dress so ye could nary see the threads binding it together. She should have been sewing fer the Queen, she should, but she would never dare to show off her skill. Da even begged her to set up a stall in the marketplace making fine garments. He was right proud o' her but she refused, saying love was what drove her needle through the cloth. She couldn't make clothes fer strangers because her heart wouldn't be in it.”  
“Mmmm,” Finch nodded, “Many a tunic and breeches I've given away out of love and concern for my fellow dwarf. I ken your mother's reasons.”  
Lelia set the tunic in her lap then, staring into the flame of the lantern until Finch nudged her with her foot, “You miss her.”  
“I do, that,” Lelia sighed, “Sure and she must know by now where I've gone off to. She must be sick with worry, wondering where I am, if I'm well. Da too.”  
“Ah no! You left without telling her where you were off to?”  
“There was no time.”  
Finch glanced out the window at the waning sunlight, “We could dispatch a courier with a letter if you were of a mind to write her.”  
Lelia shook her head, her face a determined scowl, “I'd not risk sending word of our whereabouts lest there be someone looking for us. No, 'tis safer this way.”  
“Well you'll be seeing her again when you return to Asgard won't you?” Finch gave Lelia's knee a friendly pat.  
Lelia spread the tunic out across her knees and slid the needle out of her cuff where she'd stuck it for safekeeping, “Indeed we will.”  
Finch turned over the dress she'd been sewing, lifting a sleeve from the basket beside her. Outside, a group of children rushed past the cottage, screaming and laughing.  
“When will Simon be back?” Lelia frowned. Nearly a fortnight past when a hard storm had layered the village in two feet of snow, she'd had to wonder if he would return at all when she could do naught but picture Simon and the rest of the men frozen to death beneath the low branches of a scrawny pine tree.  
“I don't rightly know, my dear but he will be back. You must believe it. Now why don't we put our sewing away and start the evening meal? I've invited Pelinor's wife to dine with us tonight...now don't give me that look. Harmand would be ashamed were I not to show hospitality to one who is all alone like ourselves. If she gets into a snit again, you know what to do.”  
Lelia set the tunic atop the sewing basket, “Finch, I've counted a thousand o'er a thousand with that woman. Sure and she's bloom all for want of a beating.”  
“Well then she's a perfect companion for Pelinor,” Finch laughed and Lelia had to smile along with her as they headed into the cold room at the rear of the cottage.  
Finch lifted a bowl from one of the shelves, peering into it, “Ah look at that will you? A skim of ice atop the water,” she handed the bowl to Lelia, “Drain the water outside the rear door will you? Be sure to hold the ling in the bowl so we'll not lose them in the snow.”  
“What I wouldn't give to have yer rabbit stew again,” Lelia hefted the bowl from Finch's arms.  
Finch nodded, wiping her hands on the skirt of her dress, “Tomorrow perhaps. We'll seduce one of the boys into catching us a hare, promise him sweet buns but tonight we've company and Mashte loves fried ling.”  
Lelia opened the rear door of the cottage, throwing the water out of the bowl with a grimace and retreating as swiftly as she could back into the warmth of the common room, “ 'Tis unfit for man or beast out there. What be the possibility of Mashte staying home?”  
Finch peered out one of the cottage windows, “I'd say slim. She's on her front steps talking with the widow Lesha, looking toward our place.”  
Lelia lifted a cast iron pan from the rack above the hearth, “Ah well. Time to play nice.”  
Lelia had lifted the spider to place it near the banked coals at one end of the fire when there came a furious knocking at the front door. She paused, watching Finch glance through the window in the door, unlatch it and throw it wide as Mashte stumbled inside.  
“They are home!!”, Mashte shrieked, “They are home!! Lesha's boy came running from the mill pond. He saw them on the road!”  
Lelia stood up, weaving a bit as she did so, afraid to ask the question poised upon her tongue. She rushed to the pegs by the door, reaching for her boots, her hands shaking so hard she fumbled them twice before dropping to the floor to shove them onto her feet. Outside came a cry, then another as the children raced by the cottage again, this time in the direction of the road leading out of the village.  
Finch had yanked their cloaks from the peg. Outside, the other cottages around the little square emptied into the growing dusk, lanterns held high above their heads as they gathered together, talking excitedly.  
The sound of horses hooves upon the frozen ground came to them from the shadows beyond the scope of their lights until at last the flame of one torch rose from the hill leading down into the center of the village, followed by another and yet another until Lelia could no longer hold herself in place and she began to run.

 

Simon turned to Velos, “The one coming toward us. That's Lelia. I'm not entirely sure whether she's going to kiss me or give me a sound thrashing. Very likely both.”  
“My Wen would do the same. She has a fiery temper.”  
Simon handed the torch to Velos and dropped down from his horse, letting loose the reins as Lelia threw her arms about his neck with a great sob, “Thank Freyr ye've returned safe!”  
Without missing a beat, she let him go, striking him about the chest with her fists until he had to grab her wrists lest she knock him to the ground, “Simon Foster! What were ye thinking leaving me here like this? Sure I thought ye were fer the next world as cold as it's been. I had such horrid dreams, seeing ye froze to death, tortured by the Jotunns or worse, gutted like a fish, drowned. Every night a new terror!”  
All at once she collapsed into his arms, her tears soaking the collar of his tunic, “Promise ye'll never leave me again. Promise. Even if we're fer dying! I can't imagine roaming this realm without ye!”  
Simon wrapped his arms around her shoulders, burying his face in her russet curls, breathing in her scent, wood smoke, lanolin, sweet musk, while the villagers started to surround them shouting cries of welcome, cheering as Harmand waved the torch above their heads.  
“ 'Tis good to be home again!”  
Simon nodded. They were indeed home. When all was said and done with the runes, they would come back to Melos, Lelia and himself, they would return to stay.

 

The lodge was packed. Outside villagers stared through the windows while more lined the long table, staring at the ship's prism and the chalice which were throwing off dancing beams of gold and green light as they sat before Simon and Velos.  
“I never thought I'd see the elementals here in our village,” Mashte murmured, “Then again I would never have guessed what they were had I come across them.”  
“That is the beauty of the Runes, their safeguard, that no one, not even the guardians themselves, know what they have until the time comes to bring them together again,” Harmand picked up the chalice, turning it about in his hand, reverence sobering his ruddy face, “And now they must soon leave us again.”  
Murmurs arose about the lodge.  
“So soon?” Finch cried, “Can they not stay a bit longer?”  
Lelia gave Finch a sad smile knowing she meant not the runes but Simon and herself. Though Finch was elated at the return of the men, she had lamented the loss of Lelia's company and Lelia was of the same mind, she had been grateful when Finch had moved her into her own cottage, caring for her while the men were off on their journey.  
“We have to start out for Asgard in the morning,” Simon lifted the prism from the table, slipping it into the satchel on his lap, “The runes have called us for a purpose and we can't realize it until they are together again.”  
“How do you know they were not meant to bring you here to Melos?” one of the villagers, a young man called to him.  
Simon paused, stared into the satchel, “Because there are four runes. All we have here are two so we have to keep going and I feel Asgard is where I must go.”  
“Wise man,” Harmand nodded, chewing at the stem of his pipe, “Sensible.”  
“Will you come back to Melos when your chore is finished?” Pelinor asked, his question echoed about the lodge as the people chimed in with their assent.  
“I will,” Simon glanced at Lelia who sat beside him, her head on his shoulder, “If you'll have us.”  
“Foolish boy,” Harmand clapped his hands together, “You're family, you are. You're part of the clan Melos. If you don't turn up in a fortnight, rest assured, we'll come looking for you. We take care of our own.”  
Harmand handed him the chalice which Simon set into the satchel beside the prism, closing the flap, damping their glow.  
“Now we should be turning in,” he stood up from the table, “Morning will be here soon enough.”  
The people began to disperse, wishing him well, bidding him to return as soon as he was able until only Harmand and Wickett were left.  
“We'll see you off on the morrow,” Harmand patted Simon on the back, “We'll ride to our borders with you.”  
Wickett clapped his hands together, “Wickett has never seen Asgard. He has heard many tales, but never laid eyes upon it. Wickett will be ready when the cock crows!”  
“Wickett can't go with us,” Simon took the young man by the shoulders, disheartened at the look of anguish on his face, “Not this time.”  
“But Wickett helped Simon did he not? Wickett made sure Simon was fed, warm, had dry garments....,”  
“Ye did a fine job,” Lelia took Wickett's hand, “Ye took care of me husband, returned him to me whole and I've a request of ye which will garner our deepest gratitude. Stay and keep our cottage fer us until we return to Melos. Ye will have shelter and warmth, food enough now and ferever after but most of all will ye be safe.”  
Wickett seemed to consider her words, his face twisted in a moral struggle until at last he lifted her hand to his face and pressed it to his cheek, “Yes, Wickett will do as Lelia asks. Wickett will put a new thatch on the roof, whitewash the walls, fix the loose step at the front door, fill the woodshed. Oh Wickett has much to do!”  
Simon grinned at Wickett's excitement and moreover at Lelia's skill in staving off what could have been a sad affair indeed. Wickett would be happy and safe in Melos, a well deserved fate for a loyal friend. As they headed across the quiet village square, however, Simon shuddered, pulling Lelia close to him. Tomorrow they would be heading back to Asgard, toward the unknown, toward an uncertain future.

 

Colin didn't expect someone to come looking for him the next day, or the day after that. He had tried to hold out hope but at last he began to consider maybe he'd finally cut his legs out from under him. He would wander the encampment, come to the longhouses, try to find something to do until he ended up sitting at an empty table in the mess tent working on his journal or his reports. It was on the morning of the fourth day while he was reading over what he'd just written, his half finished breakfast on the table at his elbow that Chase set his tray on the table and dropped onto the bench seat beside him.  
“You're still here?”  
“Aye,” Colin muttered, “I could say the same thing about you, now.”  
Chase shrugged, opening up his napkin, “But I work here at the encampment. You're the golden boy. You bunk with the in-laws.”  
“Is that so?” Colin eyed him, “Don't be letting Loki hear you say that. You so sure he's sold on having a Midgardian married to his daughter?”  
Chase unwrapped the fork and spoon from their sanitary plastic bagging, “I'm still working on him. I figure we can wait him out.”  
“We?”  
“Mmmph,” Chase nodded, his mouth full of scrambled eggs, “Brenna and I. I mean how hard is it going to be when we show up at the manor with his first grandchild in her arms? He'll have to accept us won't he?”  
“Yer daft!” Colin laughed, “If you've not noticed yet, Loki is hard core old school. He's more likely to disown her altogether and have you drawn and quartered you pull a stunt like that. I were you, I'd keep up the same pace yer taking right now. Show him by action that yer sincere about yer intentions, none a that sneaking around the two of you were doing. Be up front, be honest.”  
“Well you have to admit, he's awful strict..,”Chase replied but his answer went unnoticed as Colin sat there repeating to himself what he'd just said.  
_“Show him by action that yer sincere about yer intentions, be up front, be honest.”_  
Colin stood up from the table, clutching his tablet to his chest, “Chase could you see to my tray? I've something I have to do.”  
“I guess. You finished with your bacon and eggs?”  
“Yeah,” Colin waved to him, “Have at it.”  
Before he reached the mess tent door, he was already hard at work in his head. He had a letter to write.

 

Eris put a hand to her chest as if it could stop her heart from pounding while she stood watching the stalls in the square. Stealing something from them would probably earn her a trip in front of the magistrate but would it get her thrown into the palace cells? She had to create a scene as well. She had to be noticed. Then she had to pray she hadn't overdone it enough to get hauled directly into the throne room before the king.   
“Eris!” Cabel called to her, “Come on, stop yer dreaming and help me with the barrels!”  
Eris rolled her eyes as she turned away from the bustle of the square to where Cabel was leaning atop a tall keg of ale in front of the brew house.  
“Yes, master,” she muttered, “Keep your pants on.”  
She would have to make her move soon. Not today, but soon.

 

Simon held the chalice up to the firelight, observing the way the muted gold patina about its outer surface glistened.  
“You've no idea then, why you were compelled to gather the rune elementals?” Velos poked at the fire, stirring a tornado of sparks which flew through the tree branches overhead.  
“Not a clue to be honest, unless you count Lelia,” Simon smiled, “She showed up at the encampment one evening with a grand story about my duty as a descendant of Melos and I was sold, or rather shamed into setting out with her on this insane trek.”  
“As I recall,” Lelia kicked at him with her foot, “Ye needed little convincing. Perhaps 'twas me feminine wiles dragged you from yer warm tent that evening.”  
Simon raised an eyebrow as Velos chuckled, “Wen has changed my mind many a time with a kiss. I have no doubt you were seduced. Women are more dangerous, deadlier by far than the swiftest hawk but you must have had some reason to set out on such a quest.”  
Simon tilted the cup to peer into its depths, spying the rune mark like a hologram floating at the bottom, “The truth? I wanted to believe the stories I was being fed. I wanted to be saved from a lonely, stale existence by a beautiful woman. I left the encampment with the hope that I was made for something greater than a lifetime of white collar work.”  
“White collar work?” Velos eyed him as Lelia laughed.  
“He often makes no sense a'tall. 'Tis a Midgardian phrase I'll wager.”  
“It is,” Simon set the cup inside his backpack, “And at this point I am as far from my former life as possible.”  
“So what will you do with the elementals when we reach Asgard?”  
Simon leaned forward to toss another piece of wood on the fire, “I will give them to the Protector whoever he or she might be and there my task will be finished.”  
“And you have not a clue as to who the Protector might be?” Velos shook his head.  
“Nope. I'm hoping this too will be revealed in time.”  
“And after all is said and done..?”  
“Then I will return to Melos with Lelia.”  
Lelia slid her arm into his, “...where we will make a farm. I'll tend the livestock. He'll tend the fields and we'll raise a family.”  
“Sounds grand,” Velos lay back, resting his head on his satchel, “but it leaves me still to wonder why the runes are being called to gather again.”  
Simon stared into the flames, “Isn't it possible they've come together for no reason?”  
“Unlikely,” Velos murmured, “The rune elementals have never been summoned unless there is a need for them.”  
Simon hunkered down beneath the heavy coverlet, drawing Lelia into his arms, cursing the winter which still held Alfheim in an icy grip that threatened to remain tight until spring. As Lelia began to sing to him in her soft lilting voice, he was seized with a sudden all consuming urge to send her back to Melos again where she would be safe.  
A couple more days and they would be at the border of Asgard.


	75. 75

Colin stepped out of his tent, squinting up at the sun, his jacket draped over his arm. It was an unseasonably mild day, turning the roads into a mix of icy slush and mud. The walk to the manor would be laborious. He hiked his satchel higher on his shoulder and set off toward the encampment's front gates.

 

By the time Colin reached the manor drive, the sun had disappeared behind gray clouds and the temperature had dropped considerably. He stared down the lane where he could just see the front door and the windows on either side of it. All was quiet. It had been a few days since Vesta's passing and he felt like an ass for cutting out at the worse possible time. Any chiding he received would be well deserved. Maybe they'd tell him to return the way he'd come but he wouldn't find the answers standing here in the roadway waiting to get trampled by a passing wagon. With a heavy sigh, he started down the lane toward the manor.

Upon the second knock, there came a click as the latch was withdrawn and Hal appeared in the doorway. He looked drawn, moreso than normal, his face pale, somber, his eyes rimmed with red.  
“Master Denehy! May I help you?”  
Even as happy as he seemed to see Colin, his voice had a flat, toneless timbre to it.  
“Let me say first off that I am so very sorry about yer wife, Hal.”  
Hal managed a thin lipped grin and a slight bow before his demeanor was once again locked away behind sad eyes, “Thank you, sir. The gods saw fit to let her sleep her life away. A fitting reward for a life of servitude.”  
“Indeed it is. Um, Hal, I'm looking for Loki. I need to speak to him.”  
Hal looked over his shoulder into the manor then gave a nod to Colin, “His Highness is in the stables or he was as of this morning.”  
“Thank you,” Colin turned about on the doorstep in his haste to find Loki but Hal's next question stopped him.  
“Have you come back to the manor to stay, sir?”  
“I don't rightly know, Hal, but I'm aiming for it.”

 

A high whinny followed by a loud rattle and a curse echoed out of the stable doors into the early afternoon air. Colin crept forward until he could see inside. Eldred stood holding Blackberry's head by her harness while Loki knelt to the ground behind her left flank and lifted her hoof into his lap.  
“As cantankerous as any woman she is,” he grumbled, “Keep her still, Eldred, ere she separates my head from my body with a kick.”  
Loki lifted a file from the hay strewn stable floor and began to file the edge of Blackberry's hoof. She gave a snort but didn't move. Colin watched Loki work, thinking of the disbelief such a scene would have caused back in New York.   
“Um, your Highness?”  
Colin glanced up to find Eldred staring at him.  
“What is it?” Loki set the file down, groping about beside him for the trimmers.  
“You have a visitor.”  
Loki looked up at Eldred then turned his head to look at Colin. He held his stare for so long, Colin considered backing away from the stable and returning to the encampment but finally Loki resumed his search for the trimmers with a murmur, “Where in the gods are they?”  
Colin fidgeted a few moments, moving his weight from foot to foot until Loki brought Blackberry's hoof up once again, “What brings you to the manor, Master Denehy?”  
Colin felt his stomach sink though he attempted a half hearted jibe, “Thought I might be missed, I suppose.”  
Loki said nothing, continued to snip at the edges of Blackberry's hoof. At each click of the heavy tongs, the horse shuddered.   
“You were....”  
Emboldened by Loki's admission, Colin moved closer, “That's good to know.”  
“Indeed.”  
Colin wiped his palms on his breeches, “I missed the family something terrible meself. And I thought hard upon what I did,”  
Loki picked up the file again though he paused, waiting.  
“....it wasn't that I didn't think Kane could help Vesta, it's just that I wanted to give her the best chance for survival. I mean even you have to admit our medicine is far more advanced than yer own,” Colin watched Loki's jaw clench but there was no stopping now if he was going to be honest, “And as it was, nothing could be done by either doctor. What does it matter if one man is better at his job than another when the call for all hands on deck comes as long as the job gets done in the end?”  
Loki began to file at the edge of Blackberry's hoof again, “Do you know Hal defended you? The day after you left, he begged me to let him visit you to thank you for your concern, your effort to save Vesta. He saw deeper into your actions than any one of us, deeper even than I did. I will admit I have been blinded by my encounters with Midgard, too quick to pass judgment. Eidra has been on me every day though I assured her you would return. After all, you left some of your things in your room.”  
“Well that's not the only reason I came back,” Colin smiled, “Though I'm grateful you let me alone.”  
Loki looked up at Colin, “Oh?”  
“Aye, it gave me time to think about my decision,” Colin undid the flap of his satchel and stuck his hand inside, his heart a virtual hum as his fingers at first felt nothing save rough leather. At last he laid hold of the letter and drew it out, passing it to Loki who took it from him.  
“I'll lose me job, of that I'm reasonably sure. They'll claim they could never fully trust me and that's fine. I'll probably have to petition them every time I want to visit Earth. I was after thinking I'd like to bring me parents for a visit. Da would be up for it, I'm not sure about Ma. Maybe they'd like it enough to stay. Doubt it though, Ma loves her telly and her electric range...”  
Colin bit his lip in an effort stop his nervous babbling though Loki said nothing, merely continued to read. At last he pushed himself up from the floor and stood there gazing at the letter in his hand.  
Before Colin could say another word, Loki was gripping him by the shoulders, a grin lighting up his face, “We shall bring this letter to Thor on the morrow, my friend. He will surely give his approval so that we may formally welcome you as a citizen of Asgard at the next meeting of the High Council.”  
“D...do you think Thor will...say yes?” Colin stammered as Loki let him go, taking his forearm in a hearty shake.  
“How can he refuse the only other Midgardian he has come to trust, save his agent friend Coulson? I will represent you before the Council. Come let us retreat to the manor, you must tell the family of your intentions. Eldred, finish shoeing Blackberry.”  
“Yes, your Highness,” Eldred bowed as Loki guided Colin out of the stable and up the road toward the house.

 

“Eidra!” Loki called up the stairs, “Come here, quick!”  
The creak of a door opening and the sound of rapid footsteps made Colin smile as they looked up to the second floor balcony railing, “Good Freyr! Whatever is the matter?........Colin!”  
Eidra hurried down the steps, her skirt bunched into her hands, “Colin, oh it is so wonderful to see you!”  
She wrapped Colin into a tight hug then held him at arms length, “I told Loki to fetch you but he has a will hard as any rock. Come to the sitting room.”  
“Eidra,” Loki took her hand, drawing her to him, pressing the letter into her palm, “Colin has written a letter to the King.”  
Eidra unfolded it, frowned, “Loki I cannot read Midgardian, you know this.”  
“I do and so I will tell you. Colin wishes to become a citizen of Asgard.”  
Eidra put a hand to her mouth, “Like your scientist friend, Simon Foster?”  
“Simon asked for asylum. That's a bit different. What I'm doing is defecting. I'm relinquishing my Midgardian citizenship for Asgard,” Colin shook his head, “Kind of hits home when I say it aloud.”  
Eidra handed Loki back the letter, hooking her arm into Colin's, “Such wonderful news deserves a special meal. I will speak with Gretten.”  
“Is everything alright?” came a voice from overhead. Ingrid was standing at the railing, Cait at her side, peering down at the group through the spindles.  
“Yes. Colin has returned. He is to become a citizen of the realm!” Eidra called.  
“How wonderful!” Ingrid cried clapping her hands together.  
Colin spied Edie's face beside Cait and waved to her, “Ah don't be celebrating yet. I've not gotten the go ahead.”  
“There will be no opposition from the royal adviser, rest assured,” Loki shook his head.  
“Perhaps then you might finally settle down and find yourself a fine Asgardian woman, one who will bear you a large family. Oh I must tell the Queen. We shall scour the court for eligible maidens. I am so very excited!” Eidra clasped her hands beneath her chin.  
“Go speak with Gretten, woman,” Loki interrupted her rapture, gently prodding her along, “As you intended.”  
When Eidra sailed from the foyer, talking to herself as she went, Loki winked at Colin, “She does so love to play matchmaker. Be prepared.”  
Colin smiled, “After this, I think I can handle about anything.”

 

 

_Assignment: 64379-01  
Location: Asgard _

_Agent: Colin M. Denehy  
Date: 1/11/30_

_When I first wrote up my defection, I showed it to Mister Stark. Of course he had little reaction; he'd known all along this was going to happen. I invited him to join me once more but he declined. I know there was more he wanted to say but I was discrete enough not to pry further. He's become a bit paranoid since the rejection of the new longhouse. He expects Fury to come storming through the portal with a battalion ready to commandeer the whole operation and maybe he's not half wrong to be concerned but there's not much to do about it if they did, let's be real. Real bullets trump rubber ones any day. He worries, too, about spies in the encampment. I think he needs a vacation.  
So as I said, Stark's reaction I expected. Loki's was a bit more of a surprise. I guess because no one had come to bring the petulant child back home, (namely Yours truly), I honestly thought he was going to rip the letter up and toss it in my face. I figured they were happier with me out of the picture but they welcomed me back with a haunch of venison and all the trimmings. I was overwhelmed. I also felt confident in my decision. Eidra is full of ideas in which Loki willingly indulges her. For instance, she says they will have a cottage built for me in the spring, Loki adds that the manor has extensive grounds and I should have placement wherever I like. She insists upon a fete at the manor as well where she intends to invite the eligible ladies of the court. I grimaced at the suggestion though Loki approved of it with a wave of his hand and a nod. As of late, I've been thinking about Noni but with my defection, it seems pretty likely all hope of a relationship there has been buried deep but I thought long and hard on it when I decided I wanted to remain here on Asgard and my mind is made up so I'll play along with Eidra. Who knows, maybe i'll find a beautiful Asgardian woman who won't mind the fact I'm a simple man from Midgard. Might even be attracted by the novelty of it all.  
The morning after my return to the manor, we traveled to the palace and delivered the letter to Thor who read my request, assuring me the matter would be presented to the High Council at the next meeting in a few days. I am expected also to attend and state my intent to defect as well as my reasons for doing so. May I take a moment to add here that I hate the term, defect. It sounds so old Cold War era. I prefer to call my choice a change of address. Takes away that derogatory edge, makes me feel less like I'm fleeing a facist regime. Anyhow, I will have to write up my reasons and read them before the King, Loki and the whole council as well as any spectators who wish to join us. Loki tells me I am the first Midgardian to change sides as it were as Simon hasn't yet sent word he's putting down permanent roots here in Asgard, so, I expect there will be no dearth of company on that day.  
But harder still than stating your case before a jury of strangers are the things you have to do for yourself ...like informing your parents about your decision to take up housekeeping in another realm which actually wouldn't be so bad if AerLingus booked inter-dimensional flights. But seeing as that's not going to happen right off, I'm going to have to weather the storm. Da will likely be okay with it considering as he knows what he knows. He might even attempt a visit. With Ma, I'll probably be the one taking a day trip here and there and that's fine. For the time being however, I'm putting off the whole affair. I'll write it up if I'm approved. I say if because nothing is definite yet. It all depends on how the High Council votes. Loki has said he'll be my sponsor, substantiate my character, confirm my dedication to the Asgardian way of life.   
Of course that brought up another spate of questions. What will I do here on Asgard? I mean I'm not much of a farmer though Eidra assured me herself and Ingrid would help plant me a garden, procure a cow and some chickens. But I have to find a way to make my living. Then it came to me, I would become a scholar. Before any of you start laughing, consider this, I could educate the Aesir about Midgard. Become a true ambassador in the sense of the word, not the militants in disguise the war mongers back home intended to send here. I'll write all I know about the world I came from and perhaps it will work both ways as well as in time I'll be able to expound upon the simple beauty that is Asgard, send my writing to Midgard and educate them in the process, however, I'm putting the horse before the cart in all actuality. First I have to be accepted as an Asgardian. _

 

Eris scanned the crowded square, her gaze drifting over Sulyir sitting at the edge of the fountain, his face shrouded beneath the hood of his cloak. She looked down the street from which she'd emerged, watched the Oak and Thistle's wooden sign sway in the chill breeze surprised at the sorrow she felt knowing she would likely never again see the interior of the tavern, banter with hard headed, soft hearted Perth mornings while they set up for the expected patrons. Her throat stung with tears as she once more faced the square and her intended target, one of the vendors a few stalls away.   
The proprietor, a silversmith, was a stout woman dressed in a dark green shift and a leather apron which covered her from shoulder to kneecap. Eris had watched the dark prince himself stop at her stall from time to time, probably to purchase a trinket for his wife or one of his children. Eris eyed the black velvet cloth covered bench at the front of the stall where sat displayed a variety of wares, a few bracelets, a bowl of various rings, some with precious looking stones, others wrought with ornamental carving, a couple sets of delicate stamped earrings. All lovely fine offerings but she had eyes only for one piece, an intricately wrought necklace taking pride of place in the center of the whole lot. The necklace, fashioned in silver in the shape of a knot and studded with red and green stones, was her target. It looked expensive enough to gain her entrance into the palace cells. All she had to do was wait for the right time.  
A deep laugh brought her attention to bear upon two guards who were making their way through the crowded marketplace, chatting with the people they passed. They were close enough that any commotion would fall under their radar. Eris slipped into the stream of patrons passing by the stalls. Her hands were trembling, her feet numb through her boots from standing on the cold cobblestones. She'd be lucky to get very far at all. The silversmith tossed her long red braid back over her shoulder and leaned over the small forge at the back of the stall. She had to turn around, had to be facing the crowd or Eris would be able to waltz away with the necklace and the whole affair would need to be repeated.   
Eris passed the alchemist's tent. The next tent down was the confectioners, then the silversmith. Eris clenched and unclenched her hands, avoiding eye contact with those around her as she drew nearer to the necklace. In passing, one of the patrons called to the silversmith and she glanced over her shoulder with a grunt. Taking a deep breath, Eris leaned into the tent, yanking the necklace from the cloth, knocking over the wooden bowl of silver rings as she pivoted about and began to charge through the crowd, elbowing people aside, shoving them out of the way.  
“THIEF! THIEF!” came the smith's roar over exclamations of surprise and cries of, “I saw her. She went this way!”   
“No, that way! There she is!”  
She fought her way through the people, away from where Sulyir now stood, watching wide eyed with worry. She didn't want to implicate him in any way whatsoever. She would have enough trouble getting out of the palace with the casket without having to rescue him as well. She charged through a couple who were holding hands, knocking them to the ground in her haste.   
“STOP!”   
Eris looked behind her to see one of the guards gaining ground, the throng parting to let him pass.  
“HALT! BY ORDER OF THE KING!”  
All at once, Eris was in a heap beside a wagon, her ears ringing. She'd hit the clapboard side at full speed and her head immediately began to swim. She groped about the stones for the necklace, found it and rose to her feet, unsteady. Precious seconds ticked by before she could get her legs to move again, in the end, bringing her flight to a halt. She was only able to manage a couple steps further when a meaty hand closed around her arm. She shrieked, threw herself about struggling to break free until her other arm was taken and she was lifted off her feet.  
“LET GO OF ME!” Eris screamed, proud of herself for such a convincing performance. She was in it for the long run now.   
When the guards caught her, she'd dropped the necklace to the ground. Now one of the guards bent down, picked up the necklace and held it in front of her face.  
“First we shall return this necklace to its owner, then you will answer for your actions,” he grumbled as they headed in the direction of the stall, dragging her behind them. She caught Sulyir's eyes as they passed by, saw the look of concern on his face and suddenly she wasn't so sure about the plan, wondered if she should have settled for the poor farmhand, a warm bed and lodging but it was far too late to change direction. She closed her eyes, letting herself be guided forward toward the silversmith.

 

Eris was well and truly frightened. When the guards had hustled her into the palace straight to the throne room, she was certain it was all over but luck was with her when the sentinels outside the throne room doors refused them entry.  
_“The King is holding a private session at this time,”_ the sentinel had growled, _“The woman will have to wait in the cells until his Majesty is ready to give audience.”_  
So they'd led her into the bowels of the palace, down winding stone steps to a cold cave of a room lorded over by a great brute of a man and his lummox of an assistant.  
“What 'ave we here? A wee girl? What has she done now? Called ye names? Thrown a rock at yer helmet?” Skiver laughed.  
“She stole a piece of jewelry from the stall of Smithy Abben. She is to be held here until the King is able to see her,” The guard who'd first captured her, shoved her forward toward the great hulking jailer who put his heavy arm around her shoulders.  
“Och aye, I'll take care of her. I've plenty a room.”  
The guards gave a stiff salute, disappearing up the wide stone steps to the palace and she was left alone with the jailer and his silent, leering partner.  
“Name's Skiver,” rumbled the jailer as he escorted her down the row of cells, “And this here's me apprentice a sorts, Gundrun.”  
Eris glanced at Gundrun who winked at her with a grab at his crotch.  
“Yer gonna like it here. It's quiet, yer fed somewhat regular and ye get a cot and blanket to ward off the cold.”  
“Lessen we could help keep ya warm,” Gundrun snickered, earning a backward swipe from Skiver.  
“ 'Ere now. There'll be no fraternizin' with the prisoners, I've said it before. Not even one as bonny as yerself,” Skiver gave her shoulder a hefty pat which almost buckled her knees, “Here we are, yer own little royal bedchamber.”   
They had halted before a dark cell and Eris watched Skiver lift the large keyring in his hand, fit a thick iron key into the keyhole. There came a thick click as he turned the key and the tumblers slid into place. Skiver swung the door open with a bow and Eris stepped inside, flinching when the door shut with a metallic thud.  
“The evenin' meal will be forthcomin'” Skiver sniffed, smiling at Gundrun whio gave another guffaw, “Everything is on that cot behind ye. Don't hesitate to shout if ye need something else.”  
Their laughter echoed about the cells as they headed back up the corridor to the old table they'd been sitting at when she arrived. At last she was truly alone. She leaned forward resting her head against the heavy iron bars, exhausted. Even if she decided to attempt escape at this point, she doubted she would be able to maintain transparency for very long. She'd been under such stress the past week, she'd not been getting much sleep. She peered between the bars at the cell across the way as her eyes became adjusted to the dim lighting and was startled to see two eyes staring back at her, set in a gaunt, though regal face. The woman looked to have been a true beauty but whatever ordeal she'd been through had taken its toll on her in the form of crows feet, pale skin, an ever present scowl that didn't quite subside as she smiled, her hands gripping the iron bars of her cell.  
“How lovely. They have brought company for me.”  
Her face retreated from the bars as she moved to a small writing desk upon which sat a thick candle in a small metal dish. She sat down, picked up a quill resting in an ink bottle and began to write upon a piece of parchment, her back to the cell door, leaving Eris feeling she'd been summarily dismissed.  
Eris turned to the cot behind her, lifted the blanket and sat down, holding the threadbare item in her lap as the seconds ticked away to minutes and beyond. When at last the scritch scratch sound of pen upon paper stopped, Eris looked up to see the woman staring at her from her chair.  
“What pray tell is your name and how have you come here to the bowels of Asgard?”  
Eris stood up and approached the bars again, “My name is Eris. I was brought here because I stole something from one of the stalls in the square.”  
The woman's head tilted to one side, “You are not Asgardian.”  
Eris had been practicing her accent for a long time now, ready with the standard answers but she couldn't see how it really mattered anymore who believed what. Pretty soon she would be out of this cell and on her way to a better future. Still she gave her requisite reply, “I'm Alfari.”  
“Are you now?” That same chilly smile, “From the far borders I suspect?”  
The woman turned away again though she didn't resume writing, simply stared into the flame of the candle until Eris cleared her throat and called across the corridor, “What's your name?”  
The woman lifted the quill from the bottle again, holding it over the parchment. Before she leaned forward to write again, she breathed one word.  
“Sif.”


	76. 76

Eris watched the woman write. She recalled, once, overhearing a conversation between two women as the King addressed the citizens in the great square, his pregnant Queen at his side. They were, the two of them, older ladies, likely prone to gossip but Eris eavesdropped anyway as any proper girl would.

_“A Midgaridian as our Queen. I still don't trust 'er,”_

_“Nor do I dear, nor do I. She's not one a us.”_

_“I hear tell Lady Sif is still imprisoned beneath the palace. Now she was a good fit. She knew the proper way to act at court. She was a vision in her youth. Confident, strong as any man. The Midgardian, why she barely ever appears at any o' the royal functions. The King claims it's her condition keeps her sequestered but I hear she prefers to be alone, that she don't ken the Asgardians and their ways.”_

_“What did it matter if the Lady Sif took a consort, she weren't the first to do so, certainly not the last? The King's bed was rarely cold when Lady Sif was absent. Palace eyes and ears told me so though I'm for wagering it's cooled down now. I bet the Midgardian keeps his Majesty on a short chain.”_

_“Too true. Too true!”_

The women had moved on through the crowd then, their conversation lost among the thousand others around her. Could this be the same woman they were talking about? The former Queen?  
“If you are to be brought before the King, do not hesitate to ply him with your charms. He has a soft spot for beautiful women.”  
Eris looked up to see Sif had moved from her desk and was now laying on her side on her cot staring at Eris.  
“You mean flirt with the King? Isn't he sort of off limits?” she chuckled to herself. No man was off limits to her but for now she decided discretion would be a better option. She certainly didn't want Sif to be angry with her. Thor was her ex-husband after all and she might still love him.  
“Off limits?” Sif laughed, “What strange words you use.”  
“I've been told that before,” Eris sighed, “Isn't the King untouchable? I'm just a barmaid.”  
Sif sat up on her cot, “Barmaid, servant, scullery maid, field worker. He has had them all. I should not wonder he still does as weak and pale as his Midgardian princess be. Were it my choice, I would endeavor to get close to the King, into his bed if possible. I would please him, lull him to sleep and when all was quiet, I would slit his throat and escape to a far realm. But this is my wish. Yours may be very different.”  
Nope, no love lost there.  
Sif lay back down on her cot, playing with the hem of her long sleeve, “Giving yourself to him may well be your only chance to escape a life of servitude in the palace or worse depending on his mood. I admit I would so love to see poor Jane Foster heartbroken at the sight of Thor with his arms about a lovely young maid.. She is well past due for her share.”  
Should she let loose her secret to a total stranger, a former royal at that? She was quite obviously bitter about being imprisoned down here beneath the very palace where she was once free to roam but that didn't mean she had no loyalty to the realm. If Eris were to confide in her, hoping for an exchange of information, Sif might very well turn informant to cast herself in a more positive light.   
Eris lay back on her cot, curious as to whether Sif would give her more information if she were to play dumb, another skill at which she was quite adept. Men loved ignorant women, it made them feel superior, in control and it was a card she'd played many times to her advantage.  
“I wonder does the Queen know about the King's intimate escapades? She's is a bit dull but she doesn't seem a bad sort even for a Midgardian. Did you know about his infidelities? Is that why you're imprisoned down here?”  
Eris heard a loud hollow scraping sound and lifted her head to see Sif standing, her cot shoved against the wall, “The gods wept! Has he erased all memory of me from the people's minds? Oh that I could meet with him once more. I would leave him a eunuch....no, I would remove his balls, then I would unzip his entrails and leave him to die a SLOW DEATH!”  
Her shriek brought a curse from the archway at the other end of the cell block, “Shut it, ye harpy. I've a bucket o' water here at my side for the likes a ye!”  
Sif glared in the direction of the archway as Eris rose from her cot, “Were you one of the King's consorts then?”  
“I was Queen of Asgard!” Sif growled pounding a fist to her chest.  
Eris waited for a moment just to be sure Sif was listening for her response, “Then why are you down here?”  
“Because the King is vain, jealous, cold hearted! He destroys that which he cannot control. Season after season did I lie in a loveless bed, good for nothing save the need to produce an heir and when I failed to do so, he rejected me, instead mooning over that weak Midgardian woman. So I, too, took a lover but when the King could have been benevolent, when he could have admitted ours was a marriage of convenience, he condemned me, sentenced me to rot here in these cells apart from my son, my baby, endeavoring to poison his young mind with hatred!”  
“Kind of Henry the eighth isn't it,” Eris murmured more to herself though Sif stared at her through the bars.  
“Who is this Henry the eighth?”  
“Oh, just a story I've been told. So the King keeps you here locked up because you slept around on him?”  
“How dare you speak so base of a former Queen?” Sif cried, “You, a common thief!”  
Eris swallowed her sharp reply, “I meant no disrespect, your Majesty. Forgive me, I spoke most vulgarly.”  
Sif moved to the bars of her cell, “I can see still, the day he sent me to these cells, his contemptuous brother Loki at his side, smiling as I was flogged. Oh to make them to suffer as I have.”  
Eris's mind was working furiously. She needed help to find the reliquary and Sif could quite possibly be the woman to provide such aid. She stood up from her cot, strolling up to the bars to tap the large lock hanging on the outside.  
“I don't intend to suffer here very long myself. In fact I can guarantee I'm going to walk right out of here without so much as batting my eyes at your King.”  
A smile grew on Sif's face and Eris was struck by how very lovely the woman was, even in rough robes with her hair tied in a plain plait at her shoulder, “Indeed? You will find Skiver is not so easily moved by a pretty woman if that is your intention. His loyalty is unquestioned throughout the palace.”  
Eris waggled her finger at Sif, “Oh no, Skiver's going to let me walk right out of this cell on his own and I won't even have to blow him a kiss. You see, I'm no ordinary barmaid.”  
Eris stepped away from the cell door, letting herself fade, the substance drain from her body until Sif gasped, “Great Odin!”  
“And that's not all I can do,” Eris whispered as she took hold of the cell door.  
“The door, it is disappeared!” Sif hissed, her hands gripping the bars of her own cell, “What magic is this?”  
Eris let go of the cell door and it reappeared before her eyes as she let herself return, “Where I come from, it's called a mutation.”  
“A mutation. Loki's spawn, Brenna, has used such a term before regarding the ilk from that place of learning on Midgard. You are Midgardian, aha, I knew you could not be from Alfheim!”  
Shit. It was all over now. Sif was going to call for Skiver and they would haul her away to see the King. She was heading to a much larger prison than this one. She'd overplayed her hand.   
But Sif was silent and Eris rushed to fill the empty space, “I have a mission, a reason to be here. I am looking for some place within the palace but I don't have the slightest idea where to start.”  
Sif stared at her.  
“....so I need help.”  
“As do I.”  
Eris nodded. She'd discovered long ago this realm was no different than Earth. You weren't going to get something for nothing.  
“...anything you touch cannot be seen. Items, people?”  
“Anything. I could make the whole palace disappear though it'd require a whole lot of energy,” she grimaced at the half truth. After all she wasn't sure she could take on a whole building but then she'd never tried, “The farther I have to stretch myself, the harder it is to maintain.”  
Sif's face was now pressed against the bars, “My son resides in the palace above us. Help me escape with him and I shall aid you in your quest. What is it you seek?”  
Eris took a deep breath, “I need to know where the reliquary is.”  
Sif retreated back into her cell. It was Eris's turn to wait now as Sif stood there, hand to her mouth. Finally she returned to the bars.  
“And you will bring me to my son? You will help us escape from this prison?”  
“I swear to it,” Eris smiled, clasped her hands before her.  
“Very well. What must we do?”

 

Eidra was awake, had been for some time though she felt not the urge to stir as of yet. Loki had been restless through the evening, tossing about, readjusting the covers. He would find a position, hold it for a time as he drifted to sleep only to waken with a start, bringing her from her slumber along with him. She lay there listening. Even though he was still, she knew he was not asleep, could feel his body quivering like a yearling yearning to break stride. She pulled her pillow closer, rolling to her stomach with a heavy sigh.   
“Eidra?”  
“Mmm.”  
She felt him shift position, draping his arm across her back, his leg spooned against hers, lips pressed to her shoulder, “Forgive me. I fear I have kept you up this night.”  
“You have,” she murmured, her eyes still closed against the growing light outside the window, “What is it steals my mate's rest so cruelly from him? Come tell me so I may offer comfort or whatever else will smooth your furrowed brow.”  
He began to rub her back, his attentions stirring her to snuggle against him though soon enough his hand stopped, resting in the middle of her back, “I know not what disturbs me.”  
“Is it your injury pains you again?”  
As of late, the old battle scar across his chest had been sore, keeping him even from hunting as much this past season. He had brought home unguents with him one night from the new palace physician under old Clotho's close tutelage,. Loki had taken the small pot from the young man's trembling hands with a mixture of delight tinged with wonder that he still engendered such fear in the hearts of the palace denizens. The salve had eased his pain though not the stiffness. But such physical ailments were far from his mind.  
“ 'Tis nothing flesh and blood. It is a feeling of unease, I suppose.”  
Eidra reached up to hold his hand at her shoulder, “Concern over the ritual? Do you expect dissent?”  
Loki shook his head, “No, Colin is a familiar face at the palace. The Aesir pay him no mind. I doubt they shall reject his request for citizenship when approved by their king.”  
“Are you worried about the children? Brenna, perhaps?”  
“A parent forever worries about his brood, especially his headstrong eldest daughter but I do not believe my apprehension stems from concern over my family. I know you are safe.”  
Eidra turned over to her back to stare into Loki's eyes, brushing a few stray locks of hair away from his face, pressing her palm to his forehead, “Are you ill then? Perhaps you should stay home.”  
“I cannot stay home today, you know very well I must accompany Colin to the palace as his representative. No, perhaps it is as you said, I am simply concerned over the ritual. I would you could come with us.”  
Eidra studied his face, stroking his brow, smiling as he closed his eyes to settle his head on the swell of her bosom, “I have housework to be done...”  
“Which you should let Ingrid tend to. I employ her as a servant and nursemaid do I not?”  
Eidra played with a hank of his hair, studying the glossy black strands peppered with a hint of gray, “Old habits are hard to break. Without Vesta, the work load is double what it used to be.”  
Loki raised his head, “My heart, shall I ever make a noblewoman of you?”  
“I do doubt it,” Eidra laughed as he rose to crawl atop her, wrapping his arms about her neck to cradle her head, kissing the tip of her nose.  
“As do I. It matters not though. Your light, your love is all I need. It comforts me, gives me reason to rise each day from our bed.”  
“Loki,” Eidra pressed her forehead to his, “All light, all love you perceive is a reflection of your own devotion. I am forever yours, my prince.”  
Their lovemaking, slow, wrought with heartbreaking passion, drove his unease into the depths of subconsciousness where it lay curled into itself like a viper poised to strike.

 

Colin loosened his cloak and drew it off, draping it across the pommel of Agathon's saddle. Agathon shook his head at the strange weight though he kept his pace.  
“It has been unseasonably warm as of late. I shouldn't wonder we will have a mid-winter thaw,” Loki looked about the dripping branches overhanging the road as they passed.  
“I wouldn't put away me woolens yet,” Colin shivered as a chill burst of wind flew across an expanse of hibernating fields, “But I'm ready for warm weather again.”  
“Are you nervous?”  
Colin shook his head, “No, I guess not. You've told me what I need to know. How I should respond to the questions from the High Council. I'll manage. Only this ritual. Tell me again what it consists of, just to be clear.”  
Loki brought Blackberry to a walk beside Agathon, “You need not worry about it today. We are to stand before the High Council where you will pledge loyalty to the realm.”  
“I know, I know but nothing like being prepared and all, don't you agree?”  
“Indeed,” Loki grimaced, “If you do insist. It is a blood ritual. We will first purify ourselves with fire in the sweat huts as we did for Fen's coming of age. Then we shall immerse you in the waters of the Western sea.”  
“Sort of like a baptism?”  
Loki paused, tilted his head, “Aha, yes. I recall Chris telling me how they would pour water blessed by their holy men over a newborn child to welcome it into their religion. I suppose it is an acceptable comparison. Afterward, we will bring you to the palace where you will kneel before the king and proclaim your loyalty. The king himself with prick your palm with Odin's staff, Gungnir, to draw your blood, you will press your hand upon the book of the Ancients and seal your vow so you will forever after be a citizen of Asgard. Finally you will be marked and recognized as are all Asgardians so you may call for Heimdall wherever you might be and hang your portals.”  
Colin gazed ahead at the spires of the palace dominating the skyline, “All this only after the High Council accepts my request. Then I have to deliver my letters to Earth. I'm not at all afraid of this ritual of yers. Not in the face of what they're going to say back on Midgard. I've half a mind to ask Lily to do the honors. What if they don't let me return? I wouldn't put it past them.”  
“Then we would come to Midgard to fetch you,” Loki regarded him, “As a citizen, you are under our protection...” here he gave a soft chuckle, “Though I profess no great love for Midgard and this you know, how ironic is it that, in my lifetime, I find myself to have befriended not one but two of its denizens?”  
“About as ironic as an agent turning in his badge to move to another world,” Colin gazed about the countryside, It's okay though, you'll get used to it.”  
“As will you,” Loki laughed, spurring Blackberry into a gallop, “Come along, we must race the sun!”  
Colin urged Agathon forward with a hoot as they sped toward the distant city gates.

 

 

“I think I am going home to fetch Chase.”  
Sophie and Rachel looked up from the menu they were hunched over, “What?”  
“I am going back to Asgard to get Chase,” Brenna stirred her iced tea with the straw, watching the light cast a wavering orange strip across the white tablecloth, “And to see my parents. They were less than happy with the fact I wanted to stay on Midgard for a moon. I thought I would placate them with a visit.”  
“What are you going to do when you start college?” Sophie cried, “You won't be able to simply pop on home. You'll be too busy with schoolwork. Let them get used to you being gone.”  
“I most certainly can “pop on home” with this,” Brenna fingered the Uruz at her throat, “In fact, I could live on Asgard and attend classes every day.”  
“But you're not going to are you?” Rachel reached across the table to take Brenna's hand, “I mean half the fun of being in college is what happens after classes. The parties, the study groups, sports, all that stuff.”  
“No,” Brenna murmured, “I was merely stating a fact.”  
“You're homesick,” Sophie sighed, “I knew spending so much time away would do it.”  
Brenna gazed out the window at the people walking by in their heavy parkas, collars turned up against the frigid wind racing unchecked through the city streets, the cars lined up, waiting for their chance to hurry to the red light at the next corner. Sophie wasn't completely wrong, She had become used to the solitude of the country again, the bucolic landscape, the smell of the fireplace, reading by candlelight, a million other things. The city was a wonderful, fascinating place to visit but at this point in time, it was setting her nerves on edge something terrible.  
“Perhaps I should choose another college outside New York. I am not sure I could keep pace with life here anymore.”  
“There's New England College in Henniker, New Hampshire” Rachel piped up, “That's in the countreeee! Hey!”  
Sophie glared at Rachel, “She's going to school here in New York. She's already enrolled.”  
“Alright fine,” Rachel grumbled, rubbing the spot on her arm where Sophie had punched her, “No need to resort to violence, geez.”  
Brenna said nothing, picking up her menu again with a smile she hoped seemed genuine. Rachel and Sophie had been at her side almost from the day she'd first come to Midgard and she loved them for it. The blare of a car horn followed by the screech of tires made her flinch but Sophie and Rachel, who'd buried their noses in the restaurant menu again, seemed oblivious to the goings on mere feet away. Outside in the street, two men had exited their cars and were now cars arguing in the middle of the street while people gathered around them. Brenna set the menu down on the table, her appetite all but gone. When she returned to Asgard, she would talk to her father about a position at the palace, perhaps in the royal court. Maybe a courtier to the Queen. What with the baby coming, she'd need the extra pair of hands. Her father would no doubt be ecstatic but it wasn't about him anymore really, it was about being happy with her position in life. At a shout from the patrons in the booth behind them, Brenna's attention was drawn back to the scene outside the window where the men were now engaged in fisticuffs. With a scowl, Brenna realized she was starting to see Midgard as her father often did, an angry, barbaric, self-destructable, self-serving realm.  
A chipper voice drew her from her reverie, “Ladies, are we ready to order?”  
“We are,” Sophie smiled up at the young waitress, “What about you, Bren?”  
“Yes, I'm ready.”  
The words _“to go home”_ echoed in her head like the deep reverberation of a bell, over and over again.


	77. 77

“Who among us represents this Midgardian in his petition for citizenship?” Urtek's voice resounded through the Great Hall.  
“I do,” Loki moved forward to stand beside Colin.  
“Upon what grounds?” Urtek stood at the podium, a quill poised in his hand.  
“I bear witness to the high regard in which he holds the Asgardian people, the loyalty he has shown my family and the realm. He has resided within my house for nearly a full season, cared for my children, shared the grief of the Allfather's passing, the joy of seeing my son achieve manhood, ensconced himself in the day to day life of my household.”  
Colin and Loki exchanged glances Loki's confident smile easing his anxiety ever so slightly as Urtek's quill moved across the parchment,   
“And you attest to the integrity of Master Denehy's request?”  
“I do.”  
Colin scanned the room, noting Urtek's wife and children in the seats which had been arranged in rows on either end of the long High Council table. His daughter Lisle looked forlorn. When they had arrived at the Great Hall, she had scurried up to Colin, asking if Fen had come with them. Upon finding that Fen had been made to stay home, she seemed utterly crushed until Colin promised to tell Fen she'd asked after him. She had taken his hand then and kissed it before melting into the throng filing into the Great Hall. When he returned home, he would urge Fen to write Lisle. There was nothing worse, in his opinion, than to be left wondering about the sincerity of another person's affections.  
“Master Denehy?”  
Colin looked up at Urtek who was staring at him along with the rest of the room, “Yes?”  
“Do you or do you not wish to formally request citizenship in the realm of Asgard?”  
“Yes...yes I do.”  
“Do you pledge loyalty to the realm of Asgard, renouncing the realm of your birth, Midgard?”  
“I do,” Colin straightened his back a bit more, standing taller, surprised at the strength of his answer.  
“Do you swear an oath of fealty to His Majesty, King Thor, his Queen, Jane and their progeny so long as you may live?”  
“I do.”  
“If called upon, would you defend the realm of Asgard with your life?”  
“I would,”   
“And its citizens?”  
“I would.”  
Urtek turned to Thor who was seated upon a cushioned chair on a dais behind the podium, “Your Majesty, the petitioner has answered the required questions.”  
Thor stood, regarding the rest of the High Council members, “The King is satisfied. How votes the High Council?”  
A piece of parchment was handed up to Urtek from the Council Member seated to his right. He stared at it a moment, looked down at Colin and Loki with a magnanimous grin on his face, “The Council votes to accept the petition of citizenship as presented by the Midgardian Colin Denehy.”  
Thor stepped around the podium, hefted into the air the long gold staff he'd been holding, and made a circle with the tip in the air above Colin's head, “At dawn on the morrow, the Rite of Acceptance will begin. Upon completion, Master Denehy will be formally welcomed into Asgardian society as one of our own with a great feast.”  
There was a moment of silence and Colin half expected someone to object but all at once the room erupted into a din, cheering and clapping. Loki took him by the hand, drawing him into a hearty embrace.  
“You see,” he cried, “There was nothing to fear. Soon you will be one of us.”  
Colin smiled to himself. For all intents and purposes, he already was.

 

“By the gods,” Martin murmured as he held the chalice up to the firelight, “Who'd have guessed, eh?”  
Anna was up at once, taking in hand the ewer of wine that had been placed in the middle of the table.   
“Ah! No, no, Anna,” Martin cried, setting the chalice on the table and sliding his hand over the top, “This is no ordinary tankard. There, fill this if you like,” he slid his mug across the table.  
“B..begging your pardon,” Anna stuttered, her face flushed red as the wine  
“Not at all,” Velos laughed, “I've drunk from it on special occasions myself. It is, in the end, but a cup. A lovely cup, but a cup just the same.”  
“Ye haven't!” Lelia stared at the chalice, “I wonder does it imbue the contents with magic, now?”  
Velos studied himself, “I felt no different afterward.”  
“You've a good day's journey ahead of you to reach the city of Asgard,” Martin took a sip of his wine, “A pity we couldn't accompany you but I've not the endurance I once had. You're welcome to raid my cold cellar however, no need to travel on an empty stomach, I say.”  
“You're too kind,” Simon grinned, staring into his cup of wine.  
“I don't envy your task mind you,” Martin pushed himself away from the table and shuffled over to a set of shelves that lined one wall of the cottage, selecting an ancient looking thick tome from the top shelf.  
“The Runes have come together more than once over the course of the millenia with cataclysmic results. Look here,” Martin set the tome before Simon, flipping it open, turning a few pages to point with his forefinger at the top of one page, “The runes were assembled during the war with Vanaheim. Such devastation. The Vanir are a vain, treacherous lot...”  
Simon peered at the words, written in Asgardian, shaking his head, “I'm sorry, I can't read.....”  
“And here...the battle between King Bor and the Dark Elves....they were at the gates of the city when the King finally decided to call upon the protector.”  
Simon stared at the bleak painting on the next page, the swarm of Elven warriors scrambling to climb the outer walls of Asgard and atop that wall, a being, his arms outstretched, his very body infused with light. Beside him what was presumably King Bor with the long golden staff Simon had seen in Thor's hand, pointed down at the invading Elves.  
“Impressive,” Simon rasped. He was starting to tremble. He swallowed hard, frustrated. He'd been doing so well with Lelia's help that the familiar acceleration of his heart rate caught him by surprise. He pushed away from the table to stand, eyes closed against the old book, the ancient painting felt a hand slide into his and he looked down into Lelia's eyes.  
“Ye've come so far, me love. Yer chore is near finished. Sit,” Lelia gestured for Anna, “Could ye make a posset for him, good lady? We should turn in fer the evening soon. It's up with the dawn on the morrow.”  
“Posset....” Anna glanced at Martin.  
“I'll get it, I'll get it. Anna fetch the milk from the cold cellar will you?”  
When she was out of earshot, Martin patted Lelia on the shoulder, “She's a bit absent minded still. Oh she's made a posset before, of course. It's just easier for me to do a thing than explain it to her for the hundredth time.”  
Martin picked up Simon's mug, throwing the last of the contents into the fire, pouring fresh wine into it but Simon didn't want more wine, or a hot posset. He wanted to rest, to return to Melos with Lelia but more than that, what he wanted was an end to this trek. If he could have trusted a courier with the bedeviled runes they would have been well on their way to Asgard by now but he was certain delegating this task wasn't an option. He squeezed Lelia's hand, sitting down beside her again and shoving the book away from him. There would be no more history lessons tonight.

 

Colin swirled the mulled wine about in his chalice, lulled into a comfortable stupor by the warmth emanating from the immense fireplace dominating one wall of Thor's bedchamber.  
“Eidra loathes being alone at night,” Loki murmured, setting a cleaned drumstick on the platter before him.  
“Well, why didn't you bring her along? I haven't seen her since Christmas,” Jane grunted, repositioning herself yet again, “I would have welcomed the company.”  
“Winter is Brynn's worst time. She prefers to be at home with him,” Loki leaned his head back against the chair, staring up at the rafters criss crossing the tall ceiling, “I will see what I can do if the mild weather continues however, she becomes restless when cooped up in the house too long.”  
“Cabin fever they call it on earth,” Colin chuckled.  
“Such strange expressions,” Thor regarded him, “....are you ready for the purification on the morrow?”  
Colin shrugged, “As ready as I expect I'll ever be.”  
“ 'Tis a ritual of much import.”  
“Oh, I know. I'm with you on this one.”  
_“Okay, time to lay off the spirits.”_ Colin set the chalice down, sinking deeper into the chair.  
“We will ride to the shores of the western sea at dawn...”  
“So you will need ample rest...”  
_“Rest...,”_  
At a soft snort from Colin, Loki yawned, stretched, “Your wish is his command, dear brother.”  
“As it should be for us all,” Thor stood from the table, crossing to where Colin sat slumped in the chair, shaking him by the shoulder, “Come we will show you to your chamber.”  
Colin snorted awake, immediately mortified, “ 'pologies, yer Majesty.”  
“Not another word. Up,” Thor pulled him to his feet, “We have much to do on the morrow. Jane, I shall return.”  
Colin bowed to Jane before he allowed himself to be guided out of the bedchamber and into the corridor. As they walked, their footsteps overloud in the silence of late evening, Colin took in his surroundings with a new regard. What an incredible journey he'd embarked upon nearly a year ago. Were he able to travel back in time to tell himself what the future held, it would have sounded like a fantastic, fictional story....  
“....the day following, then. Brother, you will not cure your stiffness by letting it gain hold over you. It will ease only when you have stretched the muscles beyond their endurance...,”  
Colin grinned, whether his amusement was caused by Thor's bantering with Loki or the fine wine, he was too tired to decide.  
“As you wish. I will go on the hunt with you but I will still use my crossbow unless you expect a fruitless day.....Colin?”  
Loki had stopped before a set of arched doors and was now holding them open, “Step inside.”  
A young servant girl knelt before the fireplace, moving charred logs about with a pike. When Colin entered the bedchamber followed by Thor and Loki, she jumped up, giving a deep curtsey.  
“Your Majesties, the fire has been banked for the evening. I was just going to check the braziers.”  
“By all means then, do proceed,” Thor dismissed her with a nod and turned to Colin, “We will fetch you before dawn. I must admit, I am looking forward to a good sweat. It cleanses the body, purifies the soul, balances the humors. Sleep well, Colin Denehy of Asgard.”  
Giving Colin a hard clap on the back which nearly buckled his knees, Thor retreated into the corridor, leaving Loki and Colin alone.  
“If you have need of anything, you have but to call for the servant, she will stay on the pallet tonight to attend you.”  
The young girl who had been closing the heavy drapes which concealed the balcony, scurried over to them and bowed to Colin, “At your service, Master Denehy.”  
Colin cast a glance at the large bed beside him. He could barely keep his eyes open now.  
“I don't believe I'll be needing anything tonight. Go on with you now, lay down, get some rest.”  
At a wave from Loki, the servant girl drifted to the pallet by the fireplace, a bemused look on her face as she sat down, drawing a piece of mending into her lap.  
Loki looked away from her to Colin. With a sad smile upon his face, he clasped Colin's forearm, “Such memories this brings to me,” but in an instant, the sorrow had drained away, “I will see you on the morrow, my friend.”  
Colin returned the gesture, glad of the grasp as he felt the world cant a bit to the left, “Until morning then.”  
When at last the door shut behind Loki, Colin flopped down on the bed, his eyes closed while the world slowly righted itself. When he opened them again, the servant girl was standing before him, a robe held in her outstretched hands, “Would you like to change out of your garments, Master Denehy?”  
Colin took the robe, “Ah, yes, would you mind turning around? I'm not used to being in the altogether in front of a woman.”  
The servant girl covered her mouth, tittering as she pointed across the room, “If you like, there is a dressing screen.”  
“So there is,” Colin stood from the bed, weaving his way over to the screen to disappear behind it, emerging moments later dressed in a most luxurious silk robe. It almost felt too fine. He rather felt out of place until he sat down on the bed again and the tension seemed to drain from his body. The servant girl had returned to her pallet and was now sewing.  
Though he'd noticed most of the time the Asgardians paid little attention to their household employees, Colin felt embarrassed to have someone in the room just to tend to his wishes. At the very least he could speak to her.  
“I'm going to be an Asgardian,” _was that the way to put it?_ “I'm going to become a citizen of Asgard.”  
“I ken, Master Denehy. I bid you congratulations and welcome.”  
“Have you ever been to Midgard?” He lay back on the pillows,   
A genuine burst of laughter rang out in the room, “The gods wept. Never in my life, begging your pardon, Master Denehy. I have neither reason or intent to travel to such....”  
In the silence, Colin propped himself up on his elbows to look over the edge of the bed at the girl. She was staring back at him, her bottom lip clenched between her teeth  
“It's all good. Maybe I'll be able to change popular opinion someday . I know what Asgardians think about Midgard but it's not such a horrid place,” he could feel himself on the edge of a long ramble, covered his mouth with his hand.  
“Yes, Master Denehy.”  
“Colin, please,” he closed his eyes, listening to the crackle of the logs in the fireplace, “Just....Colin.....”

 

Eris sat on her cot, fists clenching, opening, clenching in her lap. Luck had been with her. Early that morning, Skiver had come to her cell and for a moment, she thought time had run out, Instead he tapped the bars of her cell.  
“Ye've earned a bit of a reprieve, lass. 'Twould seem the King has some business to attend to. He'll no' be able to see ya until the morrow next, at best, so ye've more time to consider your plea.”  
“P'rhaps he'll leave you down here wit' us,” Gundrun snickered, “You seem to be at home you do.”  
She'd said nothing, simply glared at them till they tired of sporting with her and returned to their tables at the entrance to the cells.  
Now, however, it was time to get on with her chore. Sulyir was waiting at the copse of trees by the portal. If she took much longer, he would think she'd backed out of the whole affair.  
She glanced across the way at Sif who was pacing back and forth, hand at her chin. What if Sif changed her mind after they escaped, what if she turned informant and alerted the palace guards? There was little to do for it now, though.  
“The cook has just brought Skiver and Gundrun their evening meal. They are always the last stop before the kitchens. It is late,” came Sif's voice across the corridor, “Are you ready to do what must be done?”  
Eris recounted in her head all the positives she'd been thinking of, the end results that were going to make this stunt worthwhile.  
_“The attentions of a handsome, rich man. A royal title. A castle. No more serving beer to tavern rats, stashing her belongings under floorboards, sleeping with one eye open, pole dancing, blowjobs....well at least not for twenty bucks a pop. Respect, obeisance.”_  
Eris stood up from her cot, “Are you?”  
Sif's face appeared between the bars, her countenance split into a malevolent grin, “I have been ready for many seasons.”  
Eris closed her eyes, the color fading from her skin, turning it opaque, translucent, invisible.  
“GUARDS! GUARDS!” Sif screams reverberated among the cells. A prisoner further down the corridor shouted in response.  
“Shut it, you harlot!”  
But Sif ignored him, “GUARDS! The thief has escaped! THE THIEF HAS VANISHED!”  
Eris heard the heavy footsteps of Skiver and Gundrun as they strode between the cells. Her heart was thunder in her ears. Sif had promised she could deal with the two of them if Eris could manage to lift the keys from Skiver's belt.  
“What in Odin's name are ye on about now?” Skiver cried, “I warn ye, I'll no' hesitate to fetch the water bucket.  
They were almost even with her cell.  
“I swear to you!” Sif shook her cell door, “I happened to look across the way at the little wretch and found she'd disappeared! See for yourself!”  
Skiver stopped before Eris's cell, stared inside for all of half a second, his mouth wide and Eris fought the urge to laugh out loud.  
“Where in Hel did she go?” he roared, pivoting about to grab the bars of Sif's cell, “Answer me or ye'll be on bread and water until the end of yer days!”  
“I told you, you ignorant ogre! I know not where she went. I did not see her leave!”  
“Lyin' whore!” Skiver turned to look at Eris's cell again, “She couldna' just vanished into thin air now!”  
Eris clapped her hands to her mouth, stifling a giggle, glad of Sif's loud retort.  
“Perhaps she burrowed her way out of the cell. These blocks are ancient, the mortar crumbling. I am surprised the doors of my cell do not simply fall away.”  
Skiver turned about once more, reaching for his keyring and Eris took a deep breath as he slid the key into its hole and she moved to stand on the other side of the cell door. The tumblers shifted, squeaked and Skiver strode inside, staring about the empty cell, the keys dangling from his fingers. Eris crept up beside him, poised to rip the keys from his hand when Gundrun stumbled into the cell, rushing up to the cot and throwing it aside, nearly striking Eris at the back of her knees.  
“Check for loose blocks, ye simpleton,” Skiver growled.  
So perfect was the situation, Eris was unable to move as precious seconds ticked by until Sif cried out again, “See! She is gone. Vanished!”  
Gundrun was on his knees at the far corner of her cell, Skiver scanning the interior as if he could summon Eris from the air. She snaked two fingers around the keyring in his hand, set her teeth and yanked it free, darting through the cell door.  
“Hel and be damned!” Skiver roared. Eris leaned hard against the door and it slammed shut, the tumblers falling back into place just as Skiver's full weight crashed into the bars with a terrific clamor. Eris winced, waiting for the old mortar to indeed give way just as Sif said. A shower of dust drifted down into the cell but the door held.  
Eris scuttled across the corridor, her trembling hands making the keys rattle while she tried frantically to fit each one in turn into Sif's lock.  
“This is yer magic, ye harpy! Let us out! LET US OUT!” Skiver bellowed, “Drawing and quartering'll be too good for the likes a ye when the King finds out what ye've done!”  
Eris slid one key, then another and another, as Sif held out her hand, “Give them to me. I know which one unlocks my cell. We must hurry before his cries alert the guards on their rounds!”  
Eris handed her the keys and stepped back as Sif swung her cell door wide, striding across the corridor to stand, glaring at Skiver.  
“I wanted to kill you, slit your throat and leave you to choke on your own blood but this seems a more fitting punishment. Where do you think you will be placed after you let not one but two prisoners escape? Banishment will be too good for you when the King finds out.”  
“Filthy whore!” Skiver hissed, “The King shoulda buried you when he had a mind to.”  
Sif clenched her hands to fists though she came no closer to the cell, spitting at him through the bars, “'Tis you will die before me.”  
Eris took her hand, “Come on. We have to get out of here.”  
Sif turned to Eris and smiled, “Work your magic, my friend.”  
Eris watched Skiver's face fall once more as Sif faded before his eyes.  
“Magic! Evil black magic! GUARDS! GUARDS!”  
Together they ran down the corridor out through the main doors and up the stairs, Skiver's cries following them along with hoots of laughter from the other cells. If he didn't lose his position for this, he'd likely never live down the humiliation.

 

The palace halls were largely deserted save for a servant here and there. They wound up staircases, through rooms, down servant entryways until they came to a set of tall doors, a strange looking symbol carved upon it.   
“My son's room,” Sif whispered, “We must be swift and silent for his nursemaid, Bruna slumbers in the next chamber and she has ears like a doe with a newborn fawn.”  
Sif turned the door handle, opening the door ever so slowly. Once they were safely inside the bedchamber, she let go of Eris's hand. Barely visible in the dim light of the fire simmering in the small fireplace was a small bed, plain in nature, piled heavy with blankets.  
Eris watched as Sif leaned over a small lump curled up beneath the covers and reached her hand out. All at once there was a muffled shriek followed by an excited whisper.  
“Mama! Why are you here? Has the King let you free?”  
“I have indeed been set free, my brave warrior,” Sif cooed as a young boy sat up in bed, gazing about the bedchamber with sleep filled eyes.  
“Mama, who is that?”   
Eris smiled at the boy with all the sweetness she could muster.  
“This is Eris. She is going to lead us out of the palace but you must do what she says.”  
Sif hurried to a long wardrobe and threw it open, fishing about in the darkness, at last withdrawing a good sized pack which she set on the floor. Flipping it open, she started taking garments down from the shelves, stuffing them haphazard into its depths.   
“Mama,” the boy jumped down from his bed and ran to Sif, “Are we going somewhere?”  
“Remember when you told me someday we would leave the palace together but I beseeched you to have patience?”  
The boy nodded, wrapping his arms around Sif's waist slowing her pace though she seemed not to mind.  
“Well the day has finally come. We will leave Asgard and find another kingdom for you until one day we return to claim the throne of Asgard with our own army before us. I know of Aesir who have remained loyal to us, they will aid our escape. Now fetch your toy sword and shield so you may be brave for me.”  
Sif stood with the pack draped about her shoulder and nodded to Eris, “Lóriði, when we leave this room you must keep hold of my hand and stay silent no matter what happens, do you ken?”  
“Yes, Mama,” the boy slung his shield onto his back, took Sif's hand, brandishing his toy sword in the other as if ready to do battle.  
Sif in turn held out her hand to Eris, “Our friend is going to guide us out of the palace with her magic. Do you have what you wish to take for we cannot return once we leave?”  
The boy scanned the room, broke away from Sif and hurried to the wardrobe again, “Your bracelet, Mama. The one you told me to keep for you.”  
He held it up to Sif and it was Eris's turn at surprise. The bracelet was made of thick, chased gold encrusted with rough cut jewels. Though in the firelight it was hard to tell what they were, Eris could bet they weren't rhinestones. Sif deposited the bracelet in the pack, bent down and kissed him tenderly on the forehead.  
“Oh well done, my little prince, this will bring enough coin to garner us safe passage through the kingdom. Come we must hurry.”  
Eris took Sif's hand and heard a gasp from Lóriði, “Mama, I cannot see you!”  
“Hush, Lóriði. Remember.”  
Eris eased the door open and poked her head out of the room. Finding the corridor empty, they hastened from the room with their new charge. At one point Sif stopped at a turn and Eris wondered if she had changed her mind but she only muttered to herself, “Not this one,” and they were off again  
They headed down a flight of stairs, coming to a heavy oaken door which Sif pushed open, drawing them into a torchlit archway. Ahead of her Eris could see a courtyard of sorts and a path that curved to the right out of her line of sight.  
“At the end of that path lies the reliquary. It is protected by two royal guardsman. I cannot help you further,” she whispered in Eris's ear, “I have shown you what you needed to find as I promised.”  
Eris grimaced, “Don't you worry, I'll think of something.”  
“Now we must pass through the servant's quarters to the outer door. There we will be able to escape undetected by the palace guards.”  
Up the flight of stairs they went again, down a corridor to their right, Eris was praying she could remember the return path. She was tired but there was no time to rest. The servant's quarters were blessedly quiet save for a fat gray haired woman sitting in a chair in a corner by a large wooden table, snoring, the fire beside her burnt down to coals. They slipped by her and headed down a long hallway at the other end of the large room at the end of which sat a plain arched door. Sif eased it open to reveal a maze of darkened city streets, lit by the occasional lantern. In the velvet night sky, a half moon cast a blue glow over the snow dusted ground.  
“You have kept your part of the bargain as have I. Fare you well. May Asgard suffer for what it has done to me,” Sif lifted the shawl from her shoulders, draping it around her head and face, “For our part, we are ever in your debt.”  
Lóriði bowed, “Thank you, Milady.”  
With a furtive look up and down the streets, Sif and her son were gone, disappearing among the cottages and storefronts.  
Eris closed the door after them, staring back up the long hallway. She was now alone and time was growing short. She broke into a run.


	78. 78

From the shadow of the dark arch, Eris watched the two guards standing together talking at the entrance to the reliquary. She couldn't hear exactly what they were saying though they seemed relaxed. She could only surmise Skiver and Gundrun had likely not been found yet. Eris smiled at the thought.   
Now what to do about the two guards before her? She couldn't just walk up to the reliquary and open the doors. There were no visible windows through which to climb. Once she was inside how would she get out, knock?  
Her mouth dropped open. Knock. It was certainly a way to get in. She started for the guards, keeping her footsteps as light as possible, stopped at the door a few feet to their right, raised her fist and knocked on the heavy wood.  
“What in Odin was that?” One of the guards muttered.  
“What was what?” his colleague looked about the small courtyard.  
Knock, knock.  
“That!”  
In unison they turned to stare at the door.  
Eris bit her lip.  
Knock, knock.  
“There is someone inside!”  
“By Mjolnir, how? 'Tis impossible. We've been here all evening!”  
Knock, knock.  
_“Come on you morons, open the door and check!” >  
“What do we do?”  
The guard who'd spoken first withdrew his sword from its scabbard, “Open the door.”  
_“Finally!”_  
The second guard unsheathed his sword while the first guard took hold of one of the iron rings, pulled the massive door wide and with a yell, the two guards rushed inside, swords at the ready. Eris sauntered in behind them to stand off to the side, waiting. Men were such simpletons.   
Guard One put a finger to his lips, directing his colleague to the left as they began to search the large room. At first Eris hesitated, momentarily overwhelmed by the profusion of treasure displayed about the reliquary on tall podiums, in wall niches, short tables. Glittering gems, gold, silver, copper, platiinum met her gaze everywhere she looked. There was a gold glove encrusted with what looked like rubies, emeralds and diamonds. A glowing blue square encased in a glass cylinder. Was this the casket? Upon further inspection, she decided it was likely not. The design wasn't what Sulyir described to her. She began to move into the room. Upon a velvet pillow sat a silver bracelet, four empty holes along its surface where she surmised something valuable must have been inset.   
“There is no one in here,” grumbled Guard two behind her.  
“Was someone playing a trick on us then? There has to be someone in here.”  
“The Guardian would have alerted us. All the relics are in their place, the Tesseract, the Gauntlet, The Casket.”  
At the mention of the casket, Eris glanced over her shoulder to see Guard two gesturing to a podium draped with black velvet sitting at the end of the room. Upon it was a shimmering blue glass block encased in what looked like an ornate filigree of black iron. Two handles stood out from it, one on each end.   
“Very well. We will tell Cais and Eron when they relieve us. If the incident warrants action, we will alert the king. Come, they will be here soon.”  
Eris watched the guards trudge up the steps through the reliquary doors, shutting them with a bang. How was she going to get out after she'd picked up the casket? She inched closer to it until the details themselves began to solidify. The ornate workings across its surface were delicate undulating lines across the face of the glass. From within, there emanated a blue light, pulsing bright, dimming, growing bright again. Was it of the same material as the smaller blue box further down the aisle? The ends of the box were encased in iron handles and a faint high pitched whistle issued from it like the howl of the wind heard through a window pane.   
Eris scanned the room once more. Those doors were the only exit she could see. Maybe if she lifted the casket, an alarm of some sort would sound and they would rush to investigate, then she could just walk...well, run.... right out ....there would be no more walking until she was able to put this casket in Sulyir's hands.   
She lifted her skirt, feeling about the waistband of her panties for the gloves she'd hidden that morning at the tavern. She slid them on, a bit of a job since her palms were slick with sweat, then held her hands, hovering above the handles.  
_“Take protection with you. I do not know what will happen when you touch the casket as you are not of Jotunn blood,”_ Sulyir's admission resounded in her head, _“However, I know it is the only solution. The only way to give us both what we want.”_  
She screwed her eyes shut, held her breath and grabbed the handles. The metal was cold, she could feel it through the gloves, likening it to touching a car door handle in winter but otherwise the encounter was uneventful. Emboldened, she gave the handles a tug and was relieved to find the casket slid relatively easy over the velvet drape. At last there was nothing more to do save pick it up. Sulyir was probably frantic by now. Bracing herself, she lifted the casket from the podium and smiled. No alarms, no death rays. The casket felt like maybe ten pounds all told. The handles had to be the heaviest part of the object.  
A low scraping sound behind the podium drew Eris' eyes to the polished stone wall behind the podium. She stood, rooted to the spot with fear as the wall slid aside to reveal a pair of ruby eyes glowing from within a deep recess. She backed away from the podium, nearly stumbling over her feet as a nightmare of metal plate in the shape of a giant emerged from it's niche, moving with unexpected speed to the empty podium, sweeping aside the velvet drape with a growl. Eris moved to her right, letting the Guardian stride past her, his massive head swinging from side to side, searching the room, a rainbow of light flickering beneath the armor plating to dance off the reliquary walls. Surely this monstrosity would get the attention of the guards outside the doors, it had to. No matter how light the casket might be, it was long, awkward, and Eris's arms were beginning to ache. If she let go of it, the Guardian would know where she was.  
The doors of the reliquary burst inward with a bang as the guards rushed inside, startling Eris so that she had to swallow a scream.  
“What has happened?!” Guard One stared wild eyed about the room while the Guardian roared its frustration, turning to stare at the empty podium.  
“The cask of Jotunheim is missing!” Guard two breathed. They, all three of them, stood there, their momentary shock supplying Eris with the chance to race up the stairs and through the reliquary doors into the darkened courtyard. The moon, now low on the horizon, afforded her scant light as she ran for the security of the shadowed archway and the loud low blat of a horn rent the night air. She reached the door into the palace and stopped, panic stricken. She couldn't wait for someone else to open it, time was of the essence. She would have to set the casket down, open the door and pray there was no one on the other side. Her heart a jackhammer in her chest, she set the casket on the cobblestones, keeping one trembling hand on the iron handle, fumbling for the door latch with the other, sure at any moment someone was going to swing the door wide and discover her unconscious on the walkway but she found the corridor blessedly empty. She bent down, hefted the casket up again and started toward the light at the end of the long corridor, emerging into the servant's quarters a moment later where the heavyset servant was now talking excitedly to a gray-haired tall woman in a rumpled night dress.  
“Volsa, did you hear the horns? Whatever is happened?”  
Eris sidled around the other side of the table, glad of the distraction. When at last she made the long corridor leading to the outer wall of the palace, she felt like flying. She had done it, she had stolen the casket and kept her head. She'd even helped Sif escape in the bargain. At the archway where they'd parted ways only minutes before, she let go one handle of the casket, her arm screeching in protest at the weight, grabbed at the iron ring and yanked the door open, stepping outside. She was there. She was in the city. She paused, turning to look up at the palace spires, the parapets, turrets where torches were starting to blaze to life. The whole palace would soon be awake. Eris lifted the casket to her shoulder, suppressing the urge to whistle as she began to make her way through the streets._

_The stag's head rose from the brush, its ears twitching, steam like smoke rising from its nostrils in the early morning air. He held his breath. If he moved, the stag would surely see him. After a minute, the stag returned to its foraging. Ever so slowly, he reached into his quiver and drew out an arrow, notching it to his bowstring with a smile. It felt wonderful to be able to draw a bow again.  
“Take care, boy,” came a whisper in his ear, “His tail is waggin' like a yenta's tongue He knows we're here. He'll run for certain at the least movement.”  
“I shall stop his tail soon enough,” he muttered, his gaze sliding over to Chris who was leaning forward, holding himself upright with one hand against the trunk of a tree.  
“That's grand. I'm all but spent for the day and the ladies will be wondering why we've been so long about this expedition.”  
He pulled the bowstring back, knuckles grazing his cheek as he drew a deep breath, sighted his mark His tension on the string loosening at Chris' final warning.  
“Make haste, son. It's nearly time to waken!”  
The stag raised its head again, looked directly at him and let out a bellow that filled the sky...._

_His eyes flew open, his hand, upon instinct, searching beside him for someone who was not there. He blinked once or twice, scanning the roomful of shadows until the distant blat of the horns echoing over the city lifted him from the bed. He threw the coverlet off, struggling to free himself as another blat sounded, closer now. He ran for the the heavy drapes across the room, throwing them aside to rush out onto the balcony. In the courtyard below, a phalanx had begun to assemble. From the south and west archways, more guards joined their fellow warriors. Along the parapets, in the windows and turrets, torches had been lit.  
When he retreated back inside, the sound of rapid footsteps in the hallway outside the bedchamber reached his ears. Yanking his robe off over his head, he reached for the tunic and breeches he'd left on the chair before the fireplace, stepping up his pace as a muffled roar reverberated through the corridor.  
“IMPOSSIBLE!”_

_Colin stared at his bedchamber door, exchanging glances with the servant girl who was now on her feet, wide-eyed.  
“What the hell is going on?”  
“I do not know, Master Denehy,” she trotted to the door, opening it a crack, “I see guards at the door to the King's bedchamber.....oh Prince Loki and the Queen Mother are with them....”  
As he searched for his boots which had slid beneath the bed, another blat from the horn drifted to them through the drapes.  
“Something is wrong,” the servant girl looked over her shoulder at him, “Very wrong.”_

_The casket had grown exceedingly heavy as she tried to make her way through the city streets and so feeling a safe distance from the palace, Eris had ducked into an alley where she'd spied a length of rope holding a woolen blanket strung up between two buildings. She'd taken both the rope and the blanket, fashioning a sling out of them and placing the casket inside. Now she looked as if she were merely carrying goods, or a small baby, making it safe to be seen at least for the time being. The horizon was beginning to lighten, however. Soon she would be beyond the walls of the city and on her way to Sulyir. Still, to be safe, she would slip through the city gates unseen. Why risk being caught at such a late point in the game?  
A distant chorus of horns was drifting over the city, drawing residents out of their cottages and hovels in their robes to stare in the direction of the palace, speculating upon what could possibly be wrong. They were not, however, paying attention to the strange woman, her face obscured by the hood of her cloak as she headed in the opposite direction._

_Colin kept stride with Thor and Loki as they hurried through the palace corridors, flanked by a brace of guards including Silas to whom Thor now spoke.  
“I want couriers sent out to members of the High Council. They are to be assembled by dawn,” Thor growled, “If need be, we will form a delegation to travel to Jotunheim!”  
“And how do we know the Jotunn's have taken the casket?” Loki countered, “Everyone in the nine realms know where it was stored. There are others who would wish to wield its power.”  
“Who else would dare attempt to steal it?!” Thor roared, straight-arming the door entering the Reliquary courtyard only to be confronted by a large group of guards which immediately came to attention, clearing a path for their King. In front of the Reliquary stood two guards, their faces fraught with fear as Thor stopped before them, his face crimson with rage.   
“How did this happen?”  
One of the guardsmen stepped forward with a deep bow, “Your Majesty, we were waiting for our relief, Cracas and myself, when there came a knocking on the door. It seemed to come from inside the Reliquary. We entered the building but we could find no one, nothing so we returned to our post to wait for our relief...”  
“AND YOU THOUGHT THIS INCIDENT DID NOT WARRANT ALERTING YOUR KING!” Thor bellowed.  
To the guard's merit, he stood solid.  
“We refused to leave our post until our relief arrived because of the nature of the disturbance. If something had happened to my second while I was absent, the Reliquary would have been completely unguarded.”  
Thor frowned, nodded toward the Reliquary doors, “Come with me. Tell me what you saw.”  
The guards swung the doors open and Colin was reminded of his visit with Trena. Thor, Loki and the two guards sailed down the steps but when Colin moved to follow them, he found his way blocked by one of the courtyard guards  
“You must stay here,”   
“He may accompany us!” Loki called over his shoulder with a wave of his hand.  
Colin sidled by the stone faced guard, catching up with Loki at the bottom of the stairs, slowing to stare down the length of the reliquary, belatedly realizing his mistake. The Guardian stood behind the empty podium staring at the space where the casket had once sat, plated arms hanging lifeless at his side. If the Guardian recognized him, reacted to him in any way, there was going to be a lot to explain.   
“How did this thief manage to avoid the Guardian? HOW?” Thor lifted the velvet drape from the podium throwing it to the floor as the Guardian shook his great head.  
“Your Majesty!”  
They turned as a group to see Silas running down the stairs, “Your Majesty, there has been an escape from the cells!”  
“Has the whole palace gone mad? Who has managed to free themselves under Skiver's watchful eye?  
Silas bowed, “Two prisoners. A thief from the streets and the Lady Sif.”  
“It could not be! It cannot be!!” Thor looked at the podium again before moving forward, to clap a hand on Silas's shoulder, “Hasten to the queen's side, do not leave until I am returned. Send sentries to guard Prince Lorioi's bedchamber!”  
“At once, your Majesty.”  
As Silas raced up the steps, Thor turned to the two guards, “You will remain here with the Guardian until the Lady Sif is found. Let no one inside upon pain of death do you ken?”  
“Yes, your Majesty,” The guards came to attention, a clank of armor punctuating their salute,   
“And we will see what explanation Skiver has for his part in this travesty,” Thor growled, trotting up the stairs after Silas.  
When they at last reached the courtyard again, Colin threw one more glance over his shoulder, just in time to see the Guardian raise its hand to him before the Reliquary doors swung shut. _

_Eris was exhausted, frightened. She had slipped out of the city, unseen, into the countryside, wishing she'd stolen a horse instead of a rope and blanket but it mattered little now. Every footstep, hoofbeat, creaky wagon that came to her ears was a precursor to her capture yet no one ever stopped her and soon enough the rise where Sulyir said he would be waiting came into view. When she drew near, movement at the edge of the road caught her attention and she nearly fell to her knees trying to duck into the snowy brush until she spied the blue scarf she'd given to Sulyir the evening before, tied to the low hanging branch of a tree. Seemingly from out of nowhere, Sulyir was at her side, putting his arm around her shoulder for support while they plowed their way through the deep snow to the portal. Once they were far enough from the road, Eris pulled him to a halt and set her bundle down in the snow, throwing it open to reveal the casket, its cold blue light dancing off the trees around them. Sulyir dropped to his knees, his face split into a grin , his hands hovering above the glass.  
“I take it I got it right,” Eris murmured.  
All at once, he was on his feet, pulling her into a fierce hug, taking her breath away with a hard kiss.  
“Were all Midgardians as talented as you, Asgard would lose its place as ruler of the nine realms! Come, Menyir is waiting for us!”  
Gathering the casket into the blanket again, Sulyir slung the crude sling over his shoulder and held out his hand to Eris.  
“Are you ready to reap the fruit of your valiant labor?”  
“If you're asking whether I'm ready to get what I deserve, the answer is hell, yes!”  
She placed her hand into his and together they stepped through the portal._

_The frigid air hit her with an intensity almost painful. The steel gray clouds that lined the sky sat like an iron curtain across the mountain tops giving Eris to wonder if the sun ever touched this realm but the vista that met them when they stepped through the portal drove all other considerations from her mind. Spread out before them across the wasteland of snow and ice they'd crossed when first she'd visited Jotunheim were amassed lines of Jotun warriors, clad in armor the color of gunmetal, swords hanging at their hips, shields slung across their backs and standing before them all, Menyir, hand on the hilt of his sword, with a hungry gleam in his ruby red eyes, watching Sulyir approach.  
Sulyir set the bundle on the ground, tossing the blanket clear and hefting the casket up into the air. As soon as his hands touched the iron handles, he began to change, the skin on his hands, arms darkening to midnight blue before Menyir lifted the casket from his grasp, holding it high above his head. The warriors let out a deafening roar, echoing off the mountains looming overhead.  
“You have brought the casket back to Jotunheim!” Menyir cried, “You have restored our relic to us!”  
“As we said we would,” Sulyir bowed, making an effort to pull Eris down with him but she shrugged off his hand.  
“We kept our word,” Eris scanned the legions behind Menyir, “Now what's with the welcoming party? I mean that's not all for us is it?”  
“No, my warriors have a higher purpose to fulfill but your task is not quite finished,” Menyir squatted down to stare into Eris' eyes, “Now you will open the Midgardian portal.”  
Eris blinked once, twice, “What?”  
Menyir nodded to Sulyir then pointed to Eris' arm, “The bracelet on your wrist, it will open the portal the Midgardians built, will it not?”  
Eris instinctively reached for the ever present band on her wrist, her original fail safe, “Yes it should but why would I open it? If I step out into that longhouse, I'm done. I have two options, prison, or worse.”  
“You will not be alone. You will hold the portal open as my warriors make their way into Asgard...”  
Eris whirled about to face Sulyir, “You bastard! You lied to me!”  
“I did no such thing,” Sulyir took her face in his hands, “I swear to you, we will deliver on our promise. You will have the Prince!”  
“How? I wanted him to come to me willingly, not in chains!” Eris tore away from his grasp, “..and this doesn't look like a friendly house call.”  
A snowflake drifted down between them, then another, and another until the sky was thick with snow, swirling about in the shifting frigid wind. Eris and Sulyir turned to stare at Menyir who held the casket in his hands. Its surface had turned opaque, a maelstrom issuing from the lines along the glass, climbing into the sky as if yearning to join, mate with the high clouds.  
“It is an invasion, one you have helped to begin,” Menyir gestured to the battalions behind him, “An incursion from which you will benefit if you help us.”  
“Why can't you just use the portal we came through?” Eris fumbled for Suyir's hand, the only comfort she could find. Things had grown far beyond her control.  
“We need a much larger hole through which to enter Asgard and if we enter your portal we can stop the Midgardians from coming to the Asgardians rescue,” Menyir lowered the casket and she watched, mesmerized as the cyclone dancing in the sky above them collapsed into itself, snowflakes skittering across the casket's surface, filtering through the lines as if drawn by a homing beacon until the glass became clear once more, holding the raging storm within at bay, “You really have no alternative. Either help us and be rewarded with your heart's desire or perish here in Jotunheim.”  
Eris stumbled back against Sulyir, feeling helpless for the first time in her life. All the tricks she could turn would be of no use here in this realm where she was just an ugly off-worlder and her power wouldn't help her either. Even invisible she'd freeze to death in short order. There was no other choice._

_“Yer Majesty,” Skiver wailed, “'Twas dark magic!”  
Skiver and Gundrun stood before their table, Skiver wringing his hands together, “The thief the square sentries brought in, disappeared, vanished! At first I thought 'twas the Lady Sif 's deception because she tricked into openin' the cell to search for the lass but when the keys was snatched from me belt and the door shut, I knew the wench had played us. We watched the keys float across to Lady Sif's door and when she was free, she, too, vanished before our very faces. I canna explain it!”  
Thor's hand shot out, grabbing Skiver by his leather vest, “Who was this thief? Was she familiar to you?”  
“Nooo, she was an off worlder. Ye could hear it in her speech. She was a comely lass with a fine shape, dark hair..,”  
“What was her name?” Thor shook him, “ We must search the city and the outlying towns. 'Tis possible Sif will be with her if they left together.”  
“But yer Majesty, I didna' see them leave together, I didna' see them leave a'tall.”  
“Yet they are not here,” Thor gestured toward the cells, “Her name, you fool! What was it?”  
Skiver glanced at Gundrun whose face was contorted in thought, “Ah, 'twas an odd sort of name.....”  
At last Gundrun tapped Skiver on the shoulder, “It hasta be in the ledger, Skiver!”  
“Och, yer right!” Skiver cried, tearing away from Thor's grip, whirling about to pull the thick tome across the table to him, throwing it open, flipping through the stained, dirty pages until he found the last entry.   
“There it is. She said her name was Eris,” he pointed at the name with a stubby finger.  
All at once, Colin and Loki turned to stare at one another.  
“Begging yer pardon,” Colin raised his hand, “You'd recognize her if you saw her right?”  
“Aye,” Skiver nodded, “A course!”  
Colin backed away toward the stairs leading up to the palace proper, “I'll be right back.”  
“Surely you do not believe it is her, Colin.” Loki exclaimed as Colin took the steps two at a time.  
“I hope not,” Colin called over his shoulder, “I really hope not.”_

_When Colin reached the corridor, he spied three guards heading straight for him, followed close behind by a wailing woman whom he recognized as the nursemaid, Bruna.  
“We must speak with the king. Have you seen his Majesty?” The guards halted before him as Bruna continued to cry, “The King will have me executed!! We must find the Prince!”  
“The King is down in the cells talking to Skiver. I'm afraid to ask. What's wrong?”  
“Prince Lorioi is missing!” Bruna shrieked, “The entire household has been searching for him!”  
Colin glanced at the doorway to the cells, “I've an idea we won't find him in the palace. The Lady Sif has escaped.”  
“AHHHH!” Bruna fell to the floor, her forehead pressed against the marble, “She has surely fled with the Prince! It must be so! I am for the sword now!”  
The guards hauled the hysterical woman to her feet, leading her down the stairs while Colin continued on to his bedchamber at a sprint._

_Colin yanked at the buckle of his satchel, a thousand thoughts running through his head. How could Eris possibly have survived the portal malfunction? Had she ended up somewhere else and if she had in fact found herself in a distant corner of Asgard, why hadn't she tried to reach the palace? Why had she helped Sif escape? There was going to be a shit ton of paperwork on this one. He grabbed the tablet, fumbled it, grabbed it, tucked it under his arm and was out the bedchamber door on a dead run._

_When Colin at last returned to the cells,tablet in hand, he found Thor sitting in Skiver's chair, face in his hands. Loki was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. Bruna and the guards were nowhere to be seen, Skiver was still prattling on about his innocencewhile Gundrun looked on, still too terrified to say much.  
“Skiver,” Colin handed the tablet to the head jailer, “Is this the woman you had in yer cells?”  
Skiver stared at Eris's photo, “Och aye, the very same. How did ye come to have her picture? Is it more Midgardian magic?”  
“It is,” Colin rasped, “Yer sure it was her? Positive?”  
“Aye, ” Skiver pointed to the picture, “Who could forget such a bonny face?”  
All at once Colin felt the world cant to one side. He put a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes, “I've got to get to the encampment.”  
“Let me see your tablet,” Loki held out his hand, gazed at Eris's file photo for a moment and looked up at Colin, “This woman. I have seen her.”  
Thor looked up, his eyes rimmed with red, “What say you?”  
Loki tapped the screen, “She came to fetch tributes of wine at Mabon. She was a dancer in one of the city taverns. The Oak and Thistle I believe. She was quite bold.”  
“It would seem we didn't lose Eris in the portal after all,” Colin groaned, “I've got to get to Stark, see if we can't find out where she is now. How the hell did she slip through the screening process?”  
“Screening process?'” Loki handed the tablet back to Colin;  
“If Eris has been a few hundred meters away from the palace all this time without contacting us, I'm for thinking she disappeared on purpose. She's likely a mutant but we disqualified mutants from the program for good reasons, this being one of them. She must have never registered as a mutant or we would have had her on file. Damn!”  
Thor shot up from the chair, grabbing one of the guards, “..You are to go to the Oak and Thistle. I want the proprietor and his employees in the throne room before the sun hits its zenith!”  
“Yes, your Majesty,” the guard bowed before rushing up the stairs, his men close behind.  
“Yer Majesty,” Skiver mumbled, his hands clasped before his round belly, “It was a mistake. I swear we didna' mean to make such a mess a things.”  
Thor regarded him, the silence in the chamber a palpable thing, “For your loyalty all these seasons I shall pardon you but make no mistake there will be no second chance. Another escape and you will find yourself in irons beside your charges. Do you ken?”  
Skiver grabbed Thor's hand, pressing it to his forehead as he wailed, “Aye, och aye. I'll no' fail ye agin, yer Majesty! If I do, I'll be the one ta set my neck in the hangman's noose!”  
Thor looked to Colin then, “We must hurry to the encampment for I fear this is all connected.”_


	79. 79

“You have but to press your finger to this bracelet and we will be able to pass through these portals?” Menyir lifted Eris' wrist up to his face.  
“Yes,” Eris fought to steady her voice, “But if you go in there swinging, you're going to destroy what you need to build more portals. If you don't want anyone to come after you and kick your ass, you need to take the portals themselves down, save the techs and scientists, especially the Midgardians named Tony Stark and Simon Foster. Simon is the man who perfected the portal technology, Stark built them.”  
Menyir let her wrist go, “These....techs as you call them. You know who they are?”  
“Yes, sort of....most of the people you're going to find when you enter the longhouses will be techs. Take as many of them as you can. Remove the equipment from the longhouses then destroy the portals,” Eris sighed, feeling as though she was talking to a child, “I can't help you because I can't come through until your boys are all in or the portal will close. Do you ken?”  
Menyir's smile was as cold as the ground they now stood upon, “We will do what we must to gain control of these long houses. You will help us when you arrive. Sulyir!”  
Sulyir stepped forward, “Your Majesty.”  
Menyir bent down as he approached, crooking a finger at him, “You know where my brother's family resides do you not?”  
“I do. I have passed by it often on the way to market with the farmer on whose farm I worked.”  
“Then you are charged with bringing them to me.”  
“But what if the dark prince is with them?” He will doubtless not come easily.”  
Menyir dismissed Sulyir with a wave of his hand, “You will have a contingent of warriors at your command, you fool! He will be one against many and desperate to protect his brood.”  
“After we manage to capture them, then what?”  
Menyir withdrew his sword from its sheath, “Then you will bring them to the palace in the city of Asgard for we will have taken it by then.” For emphasis, he turned to the warriors lined up waiting behind him and raised his sword to the sky, “Then will Jotunheim rule the nine realms ONCE MORE!”  
A roar rose from the battalions stretched across the wasteland as Eris drew close to Sulyir “Do you think they'll be able to pull this off?”  
“With the casket, yes.”  
A sudden thought made Eris clutch Sulyir's arm, “Don't hurt them.”  
“What?”  
“Loki has children, babies. I don't want them to get hurt.”  
“Why do you care? You are set to take from them their father,” Sulyir snorted.  
“And leave them their mother,” Eris hissed as Menyir turned toward them, “Promise me.”  
Sulyir nodded though his response was cut short. Menyir had sheathed his sword and was now lifting the casket into his hands.  
“We are ready. Open the portal!”

 

Tony's head bobbed to the desk once more. This time he sat back in his chair and stretched, groaning with relief. Going through the duty roster was as boring as it got but it was a requirement. At the end of this month, some of the techs were going home with the second group and he was going to have to fill in the gaps.  
He sat forward again and began to read through the names.  
_“Flint, George. Fleer, Adam, Foster, Simon...”_  
Tony paused. He hadn't looked at the grid for some time. If he was going to be honest with himself, he was of Colin's mind. Simon was probably dead. He hadn't held out much hope from the beginning. The man was neurotic in the best of settings, likely he'd died of fright from a scraped knee. Tony continued down the list but two more names before he slid the duty roster toward the trash can at the side of his desk, watching as the hologram crumpled up into a glowing ball and dropped inside. He'd finish the damn thing later. Morbid curiosity had gotten the better of him. He spread his hands out again over the desk, opening up a topographical map, the words “ASGARD” and “ALFHEIM” pulsing in large green letters over the landscape. He leaned forward, a surprised smile spreading across his face as he spied Simon's tiny green triangle.   
“Enhance, sector one zero four.”  
The triangle grew larger.  
“Enhance again.”  
The triangle became larger still and now it could be seen moving ever so slowly across the green grid heading in the general direction of the city of Asgard.  
“Estimate distance to Asgard city limits at present rate of speed.”  
“At present rate of speed,” Jarvis's voice filled the office, “...target should reach city limits in approximately eight hours allowing for difficulty of terrain along current trajectory.”  
Tony pushed away from the desk, rushing from his office into the longhouse proper, “Where's Kenworth!”  
“Not on duty yet,” called one of the techs standing at the bank of computers below the portal ramp.  
“Right. I'll be back,” Tony called to the empty office, “Don't open the door for strangers, honey!”

 

Tony hurried along the lines of tents, turning to his left near the middle of the section, stopping at a gray tent on the right halfway down the row.  
“Kenworth!”  
Kenworth's head popped out of the tent flap, eyes bleary with sleep, “Sir?”  
“Get dressed. I have a job for you,” Tony pushed Kenworth's head back behind the flap, “I want Ardsley along too.”  
“Yes, sir,” came Ardsley's muffled voice from the interior of the tent, “What.....uhn...is the assignment...”  
“You're going to be the welcoming party.”

 

The technician watched Mister Stark out of the longhouse before he slid his lunch pack out from beneath the table and sat it before him. He'd agreed yesterday to cover the extra shift for Burns today but that meant waiting until suppertime to eat. At the very least he needed a snack.   
He unzipped the pack and flipped open the lid. The sweet aroma of cheese danish filled the work station, making him grin. According to what the tech had been told, Stark had chosen well when he hired staff for the mess tent seeing as he had to eat what everyone else in the encampment did and he was very particular about his food. The tech took the napkin from atop the danish and set it on the table next to the pack.  
The shrill beep caught him off guard and he twisted about in his chair, glancing at the two other techs in the bio scan section to his rear but they were busy staring at the screen before them. At the second beep, the tech swung about to stare at his own screen.  
“Uh...um the portal's been activated....guys?”  
“We see this Gorman....one of the bio techs called to him, “Just monitor the power output.....”  
Above him, the blocks had begun to hum, vibrating against the base, “I've never sat in on a portal transfer. What do I do?”  
“Just what you're doing........Jesus Christ, it's an unregistered marker!”  
Gorman stared at the blocks which were beginning to rise from their places on the base. When anyone passed from Midgard to Asgard through the portal, their bracelets would be registered to them, the information recorded in the database.   
“Who the hell could it be then? Do you think it's the director?”  
“Are you fucking stupid? The Director's marker is in the database!” one of the bio techs jumped from his chair on a dead run for the longhouse doors, “I've got to find Stark. We need agents in here now.”  
Gorman swiveled about to look at the remaining bio technician who was now gawping at the portal, “No one has unregistered markers. We assign every one as they arrive. The extras are locked in Stark's cabinet. Who would have an unregistered marker?”  
The bio tech stood from his chair, “The only person we couldn't register was the chick who got scrambled coming through with the first group....”  
Gorman turned to the portal as the cubes shot into the air...

 

“Mister Stark! Mister Stark!”  
Tony held up a hand to Kenworth and Ardsley. Tech Strainer was on a dead run toward him.   
“What is it? I'm sort of busy right now.”  
Strainer skidded to a halt in the snowy slush, nearly falling into them, “There's been a portal activation!”  
“Okay?” Stark gestured for Kenworth and Ardsley to follow him as he started up the row of tents, his eyes on Longhouse One, “That's not usually a cause for widespread panic.”  
“No sir,” Strainer panted, “But the marker comes up as unregistered.”  
Tony's pace increased, “That's odd. Where was the source of the activation?”  
“We don't know. It was off the grid...,”  
“Meaning?”  
“Meaning, sir, the activation wasn't coming from any of the charted realms.”  
A loud crackle like a massive surge of electricity rent the air, stopping them at the end of the row. Tents started to open as agents and techs emerged to stare about the encampment.  
“What the hell is that?” Kenworth cried.  
The facing wall of Longhouse one was glazing over, growing hazy as layers of ice began to build on its exterior, cracks forming in the whitewashed stones. The faint high pitched sound of screams spurred them to run.  
“What the hell is going on?” Kenworth breathed.  
“We have visitors,” Tony shouted as the wall to Longhouse one split with an explosive crack.

 

“What are you after?”  
Beth slammed the kitchen drawer shut, pivoting about to face Gretten, “Oh nothing, I was just...counting.....the...silverware. Yeah, I wanted to write down how many place....”  
“Beth,” Gretten put his hands on her shoulders, shifting her to the side, sliding open the drawer, “You are a poor liar.”  
Beth and Gretten peered into the drawer at the ring, nestled beside the knives, its soft blue gray light illuminating their faces.  
“I was going to ask you where it was but I knew you'd tell me come time,” Gretten picked the ring up, “You should not take it off your finger. It is too valuable.”  
“But Gretten, look at it, they'll ask what's wrong and what am I going to do? Tell them what that crazy fortune teller told me? It's been getting brighter for the past week, what do you think it means?”  
Gretten had opened his mouth to answer when a faint rumble shook the heavy glass panes of the window above their heads.  
“Did you hear that?” Beth stretched up on tiptoe to gaze out over the snow covered fields.  
Gretten threw open the kitchen door, “'Tis not the season for storms. The sky is clear.”  
Beth joined him and together they searched the horizon until they spied a plume of dark smoke rising into the air. Beth grabbed Gretten by the arm, “What's that?”   
“A fire somewhere, I suspect. Come on inside. The mild weather has dispersed till planting time.”  
Gretten returned to the kitchen, Beth, however, stayed at the door a moment longer, watching the smoke billow into the air, “But what about the sound we heard? Gretten...?”

 

“Mother, this is woman's work!” Fen whined as he folded the sheet over the coverlet.  
“Well Ingrid is busy with the little ones, your sister is still on Midgard and my back pains me so I needed your help which I do so appreciate, Fenris.”  
“Mother! Must you call me by my full name? You know how I hate it.” Fen snatched the pillows from the dressing table chair, tossing them on the bed.  
“So you do, yet you call me “Mother” upon propriety even in our home therefore I shall continue to address you accordingly,” Eidra shot him a beatific smile as he leaned over the bed burying his face in the coverlet.  
“But I am a man. Mama is a word for infants to babble.”  
“And I have beseeched you to call me so if only here in our house because you will be forever my baby boy. Is this too much to ask?” she set the pillows in their place at the headboard.  
“Father will chide me if he hears,” came his muffled answer.  
“I will take care of your father, of that you may be certain,” she patted the top of his head.  
“Yes, Mama,” Fen stood up, his face pink, a shy grin on his face and Eidra was once more aware how handsome he'd grown, the very image of his father.  
“Ah, it sits so much softer upon my ear. Tell me, upon your travels to the palace with Papa, have you seen Lisle or has your ardor cooled with the winter snow?”  
“I have seen her a handful of times,” Fen looked away, his cheeks growing darker, “She tells me she will ask her father to have me to their cottage for the evening meal soon.......Mama?”  
Eidra smoothed the coverlet down, “Yes, my love?”  
“Look.”  
“Fen was at the window. Eidra moved to join him and they stood looking out over the dormant snow covered fields, past the distant tree line to a dark plume of smoke rising into the sky.  
“Fire?”  
Eidra took her sleeve, wiping the condensation from the glass to clear it, willing her eyes to focus. Near the column of smoke she saw flames flicker above the tree tops then movement. She pressed her nose to the glass.  
“Mama? Mother....what do you see?”  
She watched, waited, standing back from the glass, her hand melting a print into the frost outside the window.  
“What is it?”  
Eidra turned to him, “I do not know. Perhaps a fire in Cole. We will ask your father when he comes home tonight. Now be a dear and see how Helgi is doing. I will be along in a moment.”  
“Yes, Mama,” Fen whirled about, wrapping his arms about her neck in an unexpected hug before he raced from the bedchamber.  
When he was out of the room, Eidra returned to the window, her fingers brushing the lump at her thigh. Every morning, as she'd been taught by Loki, she strapped to her leg the holster which held her dagger. As the top of a dark haired head glided along the treetops, she gripped the hilt. At last, she took a deep breath and reset her smile, the most direct route to the cold cellar below the manor mapped into her head as she headed out into the corridor.

 

Sulyir stared down the lane to the manor at the end, lazy tendrils of smoke rising from the chimneys, snow on the roof glittering in the sunlight.  
“What do we wait for?”  
Sulyir held up his hand, “We wait for me, Hobnir. I am going to reason with the lady of the house. Perhaps she will come willingly.”  
Hobnir slammed his pike into the frozen slush of the road, “And perhaps you have spent too much time in this realm of weaklings.”  
Sulyir pivoted about, his teeth bared though he knew his aggression must seem laughable in his present form, “I promised Eris I would try to persuade the family to surrender peaceably and that is what I shall do!”  
Hobnir smiled then though there was no mirth in it, “....taking orders from a Midgardian as well? Pitiful.”  
Sulyir faced the manor again, “Until my signal, you are not to approach the house.”  
Hearing no reply in the negative, Sulyir started up the long lane.

 

At the knock on the door, Eidra, glanced up from her sewing, her heart fluttering like a sparrow's wings as Helgi's knitting needles slowed. Before the sitting room fire sat Astrid and Edie playing with the carved Noah's ark, their favorite toy, Cait in Eidra's chair with her baby rag doll. Brynn was cuddled up between Helgi and Eidra on the divan, dozing, tired from a night spent upright, wheezing.  
Fen was sitting in Loki's chair, a book in his hand half closed as he peered around the chair back into the foyer where Hal was opening the door.

“May I help you?”  
Sulyir peered behind Hal into the foyer, “Ah, I would speak to the woman of the home. I come to her with urgent news.”  
“Whom may I say is calling?” Hal gazed imperiously at him.  
“A friend.”  
A condescending smile broke out upon Hal's face, “The Lady Eidra has many friends. I must know your name if I am to properly introduce you.”  
With a growl, Sulyir shoved Hal aside, striding into the foyer, scanning the large room, the stairs leading to the second floor.  
“I BEG your pardon!” Hal cried, taking hold of Sulyir's arm, “How dare you enter this home without invitation!”  
Sulyir yanked his arm from Hal's grasp and drew back his fist prepared to break the diminutive man's jaw until there came a voice from behind him.  
“I would ask you not to strike my staff. Hal, thank you. I shall speak to our guest. Will you please take Fen to the cold cellar and empty the tall cabinet as I requested?”  
“Milady?”  
“Please, I will be fine. Do as I asked.”

 

Hal hurried out of the foyer into the sitting room crooking a finger at Fen as he passed on his way through to the kitchen. Fen jumped from the chair, trotting to catch up with him, “Who is at the door? Where are we going?”  
“Into the cold cellar. Your mother requested we empty the tall cabinet.”  
Hal pushed open the door to the kitchen, startling Beth and Gretten who were standing before the large fireplace.  
“Goodness gracious!” Beth exclaimed, staring at them, “What is going on?”  
“We have a visitor,” Hal knelt to the floor grabbing the iron ring embedded in the wooden door beside the stone sink, “Gretten will you come with us....blaaast this heavy door! We need your help.”  
“Help with what?” Gretten lifted the door for Hal, leaning it against the wall.  
Fen held a finger to his lips, “Mother told us to empty Father's weapon cabinet.”  
At once, Gretten's face grew hard. He shuffled Hal to the side, descending into the dark cold cellar, his voice echoing up to them, “I'll hand things up to you. Be ready.”

 

Sulyir tilted to the side where three small pairs of eyes watched him from before the sitting room fire.  
“What is your name, good sir?” Eidra slid sideways to block his view.  
“Sulyir.”  
Eidra wrinkled her nose, “Is that not a Jotunn name?”  
“It is,” Sulyir bowed slightly, “And in that light, I come here to beg your indulgence. You must come with us to the palace.”  
“Us?” Eidra looked about the foyer, “You are alone, are you not?”  
“There are others with me waiting at the road into the city. I have come to plead with you. My brethren stand ready to transport you to the city. Prepare your wagon and come with us.”  
“Are you from Muspelheim?”  
“I am from Jotunheim!” Sulyir shouted, “Think you they would venture into this frozen land, forsaking their sweltering valleys? We have the casket. Even now our numbers march to the city, to the palace where you too must go. Our warriors are more given to drag you from this house but I alone hold them at bay. Please say I might go to them and tell them you will leave without trouble!”  
Eidra slipped her hand into the right pocket of her dress, wrapping her fingers about the hilt of her dagger through the slit in her dress, “I fear you must return to your warriors unsuccessful for I will not step foot from this house. My family is here...”  
“And they will not be safe!” Sulyir grabbed for her arm, stepping back as she withdrew the dagger, brandishing it at him, “You fool, you foolish woman! Menyir will throw Asgard into endless winter with the casket. You will, all of you, freeze to death, do you not ken? Your family will die if they stay here!”  
Eidra regarded him though she kept the dagger weaving about between them, “If we go with you, how can you assure our safety?”  
“The warriors are at my comm.....”  
With an ear splitting crack, the front door splintered inward, taking chunks of fieldstone out of the wall above where it had been.  
“NOOO!” Sulyir turned about, hands in the air as Hobnir ducked inside to stand, his sword drawn.   
At Eidra's scream, Hal and Fen raced into the foyer, Hal rushing at Hobnir with a roar, a heavy sword held up in front of him with both hands, “Get out! Out of this house you troll!! How dare you burst in here like this!”  
With a laugh, Hobnir swung his forearm to the side, catching Hal across the side of the head, knocking him against the wall below the upper balcony where he crumpled to the floor and lay still.  
All at once, the house was chaos, the children screaming in the sitting room, Helgi calling for them to come to her while Eidra ran to Fen as more warriors crowded into the foyer.  
“I told you I would bring her out!” Sulyir screeched, “Idiots! Fools!”  
“We have no time to wait for your negotiations,” Hobnir grunted, gesturing to Eidra who was struggling to stop Fen from raising the crossbow to his shoulder, “Woman you will come with us or we will cut your family down.”  
“Fen, please,” Eidra cried, “Please, listen to them!”  
She could feel her firstborn son's heart hammering beneath her fingers, his eyes hard flint, face red with rage, “Fen!”  
Time stopped, fate hanging on his decision but at last he gave way, his body mirroring his defeat, his shoulders slumping as he lowered the crossbow to the floor.  
“Eidra!!” came Helgi's cry from the sitting room, “Come quick!”  
Eidra started from the foyer only to be stopped as one of the warriors grabbed her by the arm at a nod from Hobnir.  
“You are to come with us, now!”  
“Eidra! It is Brynn!” Gretten appeared in the archway, a sword in his hand, “He needs his medicine with all haste!”  
“Let me go!” Eidra flung herself forward, pulling the warrior off balance as she fell to her knees, “We will do as you say only let me care for my son!”  
“Hobnir! LET HER GO!” Sulyir roared, “Or Menyir will hear of your refusal to listen to my orders!”  
With a scowl, Hobnir waved his hand at the warrior. As soon as he released her arm, Eidra was on her feet, racing into the sitting room where Brynn sat on the divan struggling for each breath. Behind the divan stood Ingrid, hands clapped across her mouth in terror while Helgi stroked Brynn's clenched fist, cooing softly. Eidra dropped to the floor before him, patting the pocket of her dress, wildly searching for the little green inhaler, lifting it out, fumbling it into his lap before finally putting it to his lips. He opened his mouth and she depressed the canister, watching his face relax for a moment.  
“There my brave man,” Eidra murmured, “Be not afraid. You are well.”  
Beth rushed from the kitchen, a hot mug in her hand, “His tea. Maybe it'll help?”  
Eidra took the mug from Beth with a grateful smile and held it up to him but he simply sat there slumped against Helgi, eyes wide as he fought to pull air into his starved lungs.  
“We waste too much time!” Hobnir called into the sitting room, bending forward to clear the archway, “We must leave!”  
At the sight of Hobnir, Ingrid stumbled backward into Beth with a scream, her hand searching blindly for Edie who had run to her, cowering into the folds of her skirt. Gretten stepped forward, his sword at the ready.  
“The young prince is sick, do you not see this? We will leave when we can and no sooner.”  
Upon instinct, Eidra covered Brynn's trembling body with her own, “Let me help my boy!”  
“Eidra!” Beth bent down, “I think he's going into shock!”  
Eidra sat back on her heels, Brynn's eyes had taken on a dull quality, his breathing shallow, lips an alarming blue.  
“Brynn? BRYNN?” Eidra wailed, bringing the inhaler up to his mouth again, “Come on, open up, baby, please?!”  
All at once, Brynn sat forward, vomiting down the front of his tunic, a weak dribble which ended as he began a violent shudder, his eyes rolling back beneath his lids, his body stiffening under Eidra's hands.  
“Let my son ride to the longhouses!” Eidra turned to Hobnir, “The physician can help my boy! Please, I beg you!”  
“You will see the Midgardians soon enough,” Hobnir shook his head, “Their longhouses are under our control as the city shall soon be.”  
Eidra's face fell, “Please, my son is very sick,”  
Eidra rose to her feet and bent down to gather Brynn in her arms but Helgi cried, “Gods help us! He has stopped breathing!”  
Beth scrambled around the couch, pulling the boy to the floor, knowing before she wiped his mouth clean and pressed her mouth to his, that it was too late. She breathed into his lungs once, twice, three times, watching as his chest remained flat. Her eyes brimming with tears, she put her hands over the boy's sternum and began compressions, counting to herself.  
“What are you doing?!” Eidra yanked at her arm, nearly collapsing her on top of Brynn. She yanked herself free with a bellow.  
“I'm... _one-one thousand_... trying to save.. _two-one thousand_... his life!... _three-one thousand.._ He's not getting any air!”  
She kept up the compressions to a count of thirty and dropped back down to breath into the boy's mouth willing his chest to rise but it was useless. She pressed her fingers to his neck, searching for a heartbeat that wasn't there. At last, she sat back on her heels, tears rolling down her face, a hand to her stomach as she felt the baby flutter about, “I'm so sorry, so goddamn sorry, Eidra.”  
Eidra pulled Brynn's body into her lap and began to rock with him, a high keen filling the air as the room erupted. Cait stood beside Fen, shaking her head, her hands clasped together beneath her chin, repeating over and over, “No, no, no. no...,” while Astrid ran to Eidra, taking Brynn's lifeless hand in her own.  
“Wake him up, Mama! Wake him up!”  
Ingrid held her apron to her face, grief twisting her features as she gathered Edie to her waist.  
“You did this!” Fen screeched at Sulyir who had entered the room behind Hobnir, “You killed my brother as surely as if you had stabbed him with your sword!” He advanced toward Sulyir but a couple steps before Gretten's arm wrapped around his throat.  
“And you will kill your mother if you follow him. Stop this, go to her!”  
Fen swallowed hard, dropped the sword, turned and knelt beside Eidra, enfolding her in his arms, holding her as she sobbed, her cheek pressed to Brynn's forehead.  
“You!” Hobnir pointed to Gretten, “Gather the others outside. We must go.”  
“You are all of you dogs! Can you not afford the lady of the house time to mourn!” Gretten cried walking up to Hobnir, ignoring Beth's hissed warning to return to the group.  
“She has the rest of her life to mourn. It is our time which grows short. Now do as I say dwarf or I will use you as target practice!”  
“We cannot go on foot,” Gretten pointed behind Hobnir at the snow swirling into the foyer through the broken door, “It is deep into winter!”  
“What care I?” Hobnir drew himself up to his full height, his head nearly grazing the ceiling as the other warriors laughed, “My people have lived like this for millenia.”  
“And If you let your prisoners freeze to death, what then will happen to you?” Gretten sneered, pleased at the momentary confusion on Hobnir's face.  
“Hook up a wagon,” Sulyir glared at Hobnir as he nodded to Gretten, “We will prepare the household to leave.”

 

A light snow had started to fall as Gretten and Ingrid lifted Eidra into the back of the wagon, tenderly placing Brynn's body, wrapped in a woolen blanket, into her arms.  
“Perhaps we should bring another blanket to cover him,” Eidra whispered, her voice hoarse, “He suffers so from the cold.”  
Fen reached up into the wagon, his voice cracking as he patted her foot, “I will fetch one, Mama.”   
He hurried inside through the broken door, turning his gaze from Hal's body, dusted with snow, before he sprinted up the stairs to his parents bedchamber, grabbing an armful of coverlets from atop the trunk at the end of the bed.  
At the bottom of the stairs, he laid one blanket over Hal, “Thank you for your bravery, your loyalty,” he closed his eyes, “May you sit beside the Allfather in Valhalla.”  
When he stepped outside, he surveyed his family, sitting, broken, in the back of the wagon and he was angry moreso than he'd ever been in his young life. Helgi sat with her arm about his mother as she lay her head on Helgi's shoulder, Brynn's shrouded body in her lap. Astrid, Cait and Edie piled around Ingrid, holding onto her with a grip forged in iron. Beth and Gretten side by side, holding hands, Beth's face red, eyes swollen from crying. If ever he had missed his older sister more, he could not recall such a time. He wanted Brenna home so badly he could scarce think of it but tears sprung to his eyes. Father was at the palace with Colin and no one knew what they would find when they arrived. He leaped into the driver seat and grabbed the reins, feeling every bit the man he had become as they pulled away from the manor dooryard on their long trek to the city.


	80. 80

They had only just reached the royal stables, mounting their horses in preparation to ride for the encampment when Loki tilted his head toward the stable doors. A guardsman was heading for them at a sprint and Colin felt the hairs stand up at the back of his neck as Thor paused, reins in his hand waiting for the royal guard to reach them.  
“Your Majesty! A legion of Jotunn are on the move in this direction. The encampment has been routed. Longhouse one is destroyed. Longhouse two still stands but it is not clear what they are doing with it. Our men stayed only long enough to witness the destruction before they ran for the city!”  
Colin was struck dumb, his head awhirl. _What about the agents? The technicians? Civilians? Chase? Tony? They had to be safe. Had to be alive. Any other option was inconceivable._  
“The manor is but a couple rods from the encampment! I must go to my family!” Loki brought Agathon about but Thor took hold of Agathon's bridle  
“No, I need you here! I will send a contingent to the manor to fetch them. We must secure the city gates! Sound the horns, ring the bells, raise the call to arms! I want all able men and women to our walls. Send a courier to ride the roads, Tell our citizens to flee to the safety of the city!”  
“I cannot stay here while Eidra is alone with the children!” Loki cried, jumping to the ground, “The Jotunn are ruthless! They will lay ruin to the lands as they have done in the past!”  
Thor fixed him with a stare, “I assure you the guards will reach the manor before nightfall and retrieve your brood but we need to focus on the coming horde! ”  
Colin had slipped down from Blackberry's back and was now running out of the stable to the south courtyard. He raced up the steps to the parapet, shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight to spy a distant plume of smoke on the horizon and his stomach clenched  
“The longhouses?” came a voice beside him.  
Colin glanced at Loki, “Most likely. Fuck! Fuck!”  
“Indeed,” Loki leaned out over the wall, “The Jotunns are barbaric. I hope they saw fit to spare some of your people. Pity is not in their nature.”  
“We can only hope. The agents on site are pretty well defensless,” Colin watched the smoke shift direction with the wind.  
“What a great loss it would be were my adversarial friend to come to harm,”   
“Adversarial friend?”   
Loki crossed his arms before him, “The man of metal, Tony Stark?”  
“Every time you meet up, yer at odds. I was of a mind you hated each other,” Colin backed away from the wall to stare at Loki.  
“Quite the contrary. He has dealt fairly with my family though I am often loathe to admit it. He procures medicine for my son, watches over Brenna when she is on Midgard, he has warned me against turning my back on the Midgardians who command the portal project. Brenna taught me a quote she had learned while attending her Midgardian school, the enemy of the enemy is my friend. It holds true here does it not?”  
Colin looked down into the courtyard where guards were assembling, checking their weapons.   
“So it seems...”  
They stood looking out over the city as horns began to sound, citizens stopping their daily routine to hurry inside their cottages and shops emerging a short time later with swords tied at their waists, long bows slung over their shoulders.  
“I should have ridden to the manor to collect Eidra and the children,” Loki muttered, turning from the sight to descend to the courtyard below, “I have no faith in those who are not invested in their mission.”  
“They're a pretty stout lot and all.” Colin trotted down the steps behind him.  
“They are indeed and loyal to a fault but they go to retrieve my family,” Loki glanced at him over his shoulder, “Would you die to protect a family not your own?”  
They had reached the ground now and Colin surveyed the courtyard, spying Gunnar within the ranks, Silas at the front, barking orders.  
“I can't say as I've ever been very brave,” Colin replied as they started for the palace doors, “But then I've never been in such a situation before.”  
“Then perhaps you have never truly loved.”  
All at once he was beset by visions of Astrid and Brynn playing with their wooden animals, Fen showing him how to aim a crossbow and laughing till there were tears in their eyes, Cait helping Helgi wind a ball of yarn, Brenna sitting in the window niche in the sitting room reading a book by sunlight, Loki gazing at Eidra with a love as vast as the nine realms and he smiled. Loki was wrong, so very wrong.

 

“Mister Stark! Jesus are you okay?”  
Shivering, Stark was hefted to his feet by Chase. His hands stung so from the snow they felt like they were on fire. He stuck his hands beneath his armpits, wincing at the needles when his skin reacted to the sudden change in temperature and for the hundredth time that day, he cursed himself for leaving the Mark XVII locked away in the sub levels below Stark Towers, for playing nice and not defying Fury and his United Nation of Idiots.  
“I'm fine. I tripped, that's it.”  
“Keep moving!” came a roar above them as they stumbled forward once more.   
Further ahead, beside the leader of the insurgents, trudging along in the frozen slush at the side of the road was a sight he still wasn't quite able to comprehend. When Eris had stepped out of Longhouse one, Tony was quick to assume she'd been taken prisoner by the giants swarming the encampment. It was a neat and dirty explanation to where she'd finally ended up on her trip about the fifth dimensions but she had walked up to him and smiled.  
“Mister Stark, the richest man in the world....well, on Earth at least. Don't know about here. I am Eris Carter, the woman you misplaced.”  
“Um, I can't take all the credit....”  
“No you certainly cannot, but we haven't a lot of time for stories now. I'll save that for later.” She had laughed at him then though she was quickly moved to the side as one of the giants knelt on the ground before him.  
“Where is the Midgardian you call Simon Foster?”  
“Who?” Tony had tapped his chin, “I don't recall..”  
“Do not think to play me for a fool!”  
Before Tony could react, he found himself staring up at the sky, holding his hand to his chest as Eris cried, “Don't kill him, fucking A! We won't find Simon if the only people who have any idea of his whereabouts are dead!”  
Unsure as to what Eris had told this giant, whom Stark now knew was Menyir, ruler of Jotunheim, he continued to maintain his ignorance of Simon's location. He wasn't lying, not really. He didn't know exactly where Simon was. Thus the reason he had intended to send his two top agents, who were currently being held at the encampment, to find the wayward scientist before they'd been so rudely interrupted. After a particularly heated discussion between Eris and Menyir which he had not been privy to, Eris had been able to convince the giant asshole to keep Longhouse two intact and leave a troop of warriors to supervise the remaining agents and staff while they continued on to the palace with Stark as a further bargaining chip. He'd insisted that Chase come with them as well for Brenna's sake. If he were forced to tell her he'd left Chase to fend for himself at the encampment and something happened to the boy, he would carry that guilt with him till then end of his life. After some waffling, his request was granted and they started their march to Asgard.

The city loomed large on the horizon, the sound of bells and horns rending the afternoon air when at last their party stopped, moving into a clearing a short distance from the dormant royal fields where they began to strike camp as legions of warriors started to form ranks. Chase moved to stand closer to Tony.  
“What are we going to do? We can't just let them do this!”  
Tony gestured at the two warriors that had been assigned to watch them, “Look around you, Agent. We're unarmed, outnumbered, outsized. The best we can hope for is that Thor is better prepared than we were.”  
“Okay, wait a minute. You're Iron Man,”Chase backed away from him, “You're the hero of the attack on New York and you're telling me all we can do is watch?”  
“That's exactly what I'm telling you!” Tony growled, “Under the provisions of this project, I was to leave all my toys at home in the toybox! I argued for months when I found out the agents were bringing their service revolvers and a whole storeroom of rubber ammo but I was told I had to play nice! Why? Because I'm a rebel. A loose cannon, someone who refuses to play by their rules. Call me what you will but don't you dare call me a hero, not here, not now!”  
His tirade was cut short by a roar from the Jotunn battalions who were now on a run for the city walls. The siege had begun.

 

When Eidra had started singing softly to Brynn, a vacant expression on her face as they rolled on toward the city, Beth had clamped her hands to her ears, hiding her face in Gretten's chest. Every so often, Fen would give a quiet sniffle from the wagon seat. Even Willow and Lilac seemed subdued as they pulled the wagon over the snow covered road. Beth peeked across the wagon bed at Helgi who sat with her cheek pressed to the top of Eidra's head, rubbing her shoulders. Ingrid had hefted Astrid into her lap, managing to rock her to sleep while Cait and Edie curled together draped over her legs and for the first time since arriving in Asgard, she felt truly terrified. The feel of her grandmother's ring always gave her a little comfort and absently, she rubbed her thumb along the bottom of her right ring finger. All at once she sat up with a gasp.   
“I left my grandmother's ring in the kitchen drawer,” she hissed in Gretten's ear.  
“It will doubtless be safe there,” Gretten pulled her back beneath the crook of his arm, “Stay beneath the blankets and keep warm.”  
Anger quickly replaced frustration. How could she have left the ring off her finger? Then again, perhaps it was providence she'd left it off. What if the monsters had seen it glow and tried to take it from her, thinking it contained some magical properties? The notion would have sounded crazy to her six months ago but now it felt entirely plausible. She gave a faint smile then. They'd have had to pry the ring from her cold dead finger. She may have been frightened but she was no weak willed woman. She wouldn't surrender without taking a few of those blue boys down first.

 

Brenna's eyes flew open, expecting to see Willow's soft muzzle brush against her forehead, instead she was met with a bushy tail twitching at a languid pace in front of her nose.  
“Clancy!” she cried, reaching up and shoving the yellow tabby off her pillow.   
The cat rolled onto the mattress, stood up into a long stretch and sauntered off the end of the bed, leaping to the floor.  
“Furry bastard,” she grumbled as she sat up, rubbing her face. Snatches of the dream she'd woken from danced about in the corridors of her mind. Her horse, the bitter sting of snow beneath her hands, a distant horn which faded into the whoot-whoop of a cop car gliding along the street below.  
Brenna stepped down to the floor and lifted her robe from the end of the bed, wrapping it around her shoulders, shuddering as her feet touched the cold hardwood  
An early morning stillness permeated the apartment as she walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Clancy leaped onto the counter to stare inside, waiting for her to open the crisper drawer and take out the sliced cheese. Instead she slid out the bottle of orange juice and shut the door.  
“No cheese for you, your highness,” she yawned, lifting a cup from the hooks below the cupboards and pouring herself a glass of juice. Beside her, Clancy pawed the refrigerator handle with a soft mewl.  
“Get down,” she picked him up and dropped him to the floor, shaking her head when he bounded back up onto the counter to stare at her.   
“It is not I who shall suffer Sophie's wrath. Do as you like,” Brenna sat down at the small kitchen table, drawing aside the curtains to stare out over the rooftops at the lights of the city. An uneasy feeling pervaded her thoughts though she wrote it off as an echo of her dream. She was eager to return home. She missed her mother and father, her siblings. She even missed sweet, serious “I-am-a boy-in-man's-clothing” Fen maybe most of all. He had always been her champion, her brave baby brother. She smiled to herself.   
Clancy jumped up into her lap and put his paws on the windowsill, curious to see what was of more interest to her than fetching him a piece of cheese. She stroked his soft fur, felt the rumbling purr beneath her fingers. Tomorrow she would take her leave of Sophie and return to Asgard to meet Chase. Maybe she would stay the night in the encampment with him then to home to see the family. Perhaps she could convince her mother ride to the palace with her and see how Jane was faring before she returned to Midgard. She pushed Clancy to the floor, returned the juice bottle to the fridge and headed back to bed, feeling a sight better than she had when she'd awakened. She was ready to go home. 

 

 

“We've not seen the likes of that cold hearted sword fodder since before me Da was born!” Lelia hissed, “How in Odin did they get into Asgard?”  
Simon clutched the strap of his backpack certain he was hallucinating for the chaos playing out in the distance seemed too otherworldly to be believable despite all he'd been through, “What are they?”  
“Our brothers from Jotunheim,” Velos crouched beside Simon surveying the scene from their perch on an outcropping of rocks, “Their realm is one of perpetual winter. They have always been eager to expand their influence about the nine realms.”  
“Like the Romans,” Simon crawled higher onto the outcropping. The walls of the city were lined with archers forming a human barrier along the parapets, firing at the enemy on the ground below them as swiftly as they could notch arrow to string. All along the perimeter of the city as far as the eye could see Asgardian troops swarmed the great blue giants who towered over them, knocking them away, slashing through their numbers with immense swords. Off to the left, set further away from the main action, in the forests which made up the limits of the city's fields Simon could see movement among the trees.  
“Look there,” Simon nudged Velos, “Is it a base camp do you think? A staging area for the enemy?”  
“Most likely. This is a one sided battle,” Velos stood up, “I will return to Muspelheim for help.”  
“It's not exactly next door. It'll take a few days to get there,” Lelia cried, “Yer mad.”  
With a wink at Lelia, Velos took Simon's hand and shook it, “In my present form yes but as I truly am, I should make the border in a day and a half at the very most. When I inform my father what has transpired, he shall bring his warriors to the battle.”  
“By then, the war may be lost,” Simon watched one of the giants fling a pair of guards high over the city walls.  
“Or won, depending on whose side you take, nevertheless, I must try to help my friends. Stay out of harm's way until relief arrives,” with a nod, Velos was off, his form growing with each step until he was swallowed up, a flash of red among the greenery of the forest.  
“We can't stay just here,” Simon patted his backpack, “I have to reach the palace with these two rune stones. I don't know where else to take them.”  
“I ken, but 'tis safer to wait till nightfall so we can move neath the cover of darkness,” Lelia put her hand on his shoulder, “I'll not let ye risk yer neck again. Make no mistake, I will tie ye to a tree this time. Let's find a spot where we can watch the battle without being seen.”  
They searched for a few minutes along the rocky ridge till they found a deep crag and settled in beside one another, keeping close for warmth, protected from the chill wind which had begun in earnest. Simon opened his pack and drew out the last of the venison pasty's Anna had added along with the cold roast beef and loaf of bread she'd insisted on packing for them before they left Martin's house. With a grunt, he broke the hard pasty apart, handing half to Lelia then trained his attention to the battle in the distance, holding his half of the pasty up to his nose with a smile. Addle brained though she might have been, Anna was a fine cook.   
“I hope your parents are okay.”  
“They've a shelter in the woods around the fields for the likes of this,” Lelia tilted her head toward the melee, “Da built it when I was but a few seasons old. He dug it into the side of a hill and fortified it. I recall dragging long branches and pine boughs to him which he used to cover the whole lot. Over time, the vines grew, hiding it so well, no one could find it save us. I was charged with cleaning the shelter each moon, clearing out the mice and other vermin who thought they could take up housekeeping there but I would often spend time in the shelter, playing with me dolls. The family is more than likely there now.”  
“What made him build the shelter in the first place?” Simon mused around a mouthful of roast beef.  
“The war with Vanaheim had just ended and Ma was determined we'd not live in such fear of being attacked in our own home again. I heard them talking on it one night and the next day so it seems he was out in the forest with his spade,” she hung her head, “Sure and me Da has cast his lot in with the troops to defend the city 'gainst those blue terrors, fighting for the safety of the kingdom. We should have headed for the house when we arrived in Asgard if only to tell me Ma I was alive.”  
Simon slid his arm into hers, “Mothers know when something happens to their babies even if they're a world away, trust me. Our job is to get these stones back to the palace, I'm more sure of it now than I was before. After we deliver them, we'll get ourselves to the farm and find your family,” he returned Lelia's sad smile, certain that her parents were going to be far less than pleased to see the man who dragged their daughter across the realms and back.  
Lelia lay her head on his shoulder, “I wish we were back in Melos.”  
He gave her arm a squeeze, “So do I.”

 

Eidra had stopped humming and now sat there in the back of the wagon, silent, her eyes empty, her stare unnerving Fen even more so than had the endless lullaby. The closer they came to the city, the louder the sounds of battle grew, the cries of the wounded, the shouts, clash of metal against metal. These were the sounds Fen covered his ears against now as he followed the Jotunns in the road ahead of him. The runners on the wagon had stuck once or twice along the way as waxing them had been the furthest thing from his mind when they started out and he was sure the Jotunns would make them get out of the wagon and walk but the warriors had simply lifted the wagon out of trouble as if it were a toy and they had continued on. The cottages and farms they passed seemed mostly deserted though upon looking back the way they'd come, he'd spied a candle appear in one of the lower windows of Council member Wellan's manse.   
As the final light of day disappeared into the starlight, the Jotunns turned off the main road onto a newly traveled path into the forest. Fen struggled with the horses who at first refused to follow on the uneven ground until Fen jumped down from the wagon and led them by the reins. At last they came to a vast clearing illuminated with blue stone pillars of light at the edge of the royal fields. Inside the perimeter formed by the pillars were stone huts made from the same material, creating an encampment of of blue glowing mounds which might have been quite lovely were they not housing Asgard's dire enemies.  
The sounds of battle could not be ignored now, as close as they were to the city and Astrid started to cry, soon joined by Cait. Edie sat wide eyed beside Ingrid, spared the horrible clamor in her silent world.  
When Hobnir held up a hand before one of the larger shelters, Fen pulled the wagon to a halt, “Stay where you are. I will fetch the King.”  
Sulyir, who had since reverted to his Jotunn form, leaned down to Fen, “Do what Menyir says, for the sake of your family. He is quick to punish dissent.”  
Fen said nothing, only looked straight ahead, taking in the lay of the encampment to relay to his father when next they met.   
“Get out of the way!” came a voice from a group of warriors to his right, “I'm ticked off just enough!”  
Fen glanced about the encampment to see two men striding across the hard packed snow followed quickly along by two Jotunn warriors as the others in the group roared with laughter.  
When he realized who the two men were, Fen fairly leaped from the wagon, stumbling to his knees before regaining his feet again.  
“Mister Stark! Chase!” Fen cried as Stark grabbed him by the arm to keep him from falling once more.  
“Fen! What the hell is going on? Who's in the wagon?”  
“Oh Mister Stark, they came to the house, broke in the front door. Hal is dead and....oh, I cannot say it!” Fen wailed, not caring how immature he sounded.  
“Where's Brenna?!” Chase hurried to the back of the wagon where Beth had risen on her knees to stare at them over the sideboards.  
“She's still in Midgard,” Beth called to him, “She's safe.”  
“RETURN TO YOUR PLACE!” growled one of the Jotunn's who had been chasing after them.  
“Hey, fuck you pal,” Stark shot over his shoulder as he followed Fen to the back of the wagon, “Take it up with my secretary......ah shit!”  
Eidra, upon hearing Stark's voice had risen unsteadily to her feet, speaking the first words she'd uttered the entire trip as Gretten leaped up to steady her.  
“Mister Stark! Please help me! Please! Brynn is sick!”  
She took a couple steps forward, dropping to her knees in the hay, holding Brynn's blanket wrapped body out to Stark who took the boy in his arms.  
“He needs his medicine,” Eidra cried, “You must hurry!”  
Fen took his mother by the elbow as she climbed down to the ground and Stark lay Brynn's body on the hay of the wagon bed, removing the blanket from his face.  
“Jesus Christ,” Stark muttered as Fen tugged at his sleeve.  
“She will not believe he is gone. Please help us, Mister Stark. I fear she is mad.”  
Chase had taken Eidra's other arm now and was endeavoring to help her stay upright, his lip trembling as he stared down at his feet.  
With a short nod, Stark turned to Eidra, his voice steady, “Eidra, Brynn is beyond help, do you understand?”  
Eidra shook her head, slowly at first, then with more determination, “No, you can help him. You have always helped him!”  
“I know,” Stark took her by the shoulders, “And I would do everything in my power to do so now were it possible but its too late.”  
Eidra looked to Fen, then to Chase, up to Helgi in the wagon bed, her cloak up to her face, muffing her sobs, Ingrid, holding Cait and Astrid tight, whispering to them and all strength left her legs.  
“MY BABY!” she wailed as Stark gathered her into his arms, “MY SON, WHAT WILL I DO? WHAT SHALL I TELL LOKI? MY POOR BRAVE BOYYYY!”  
“I know,” Stark murmured, “A brave boy, a good boy and we will take care of him like we should, for now, though, you have to see to the rest of your brood. We're in a tight spot here and they're scared. Hell I'm a bit anxious myself but you have to be strong.”  
“My boy,” she whispered, her face buried against his chest, “my boy....so sweet....so gentle...,”  
Stark nodded at Fen, “Get her up in the wagon, cover her up with blankets before..”  
“SILENCE!” boomed a voice above them, “Move away from the woman that I might see what weakling my brother has chosen for a wife!”  
“If I move, she's going to fall over!” Stark spat, “You can see her well enough.”  
All at once, he was jerked backwards by the collar of his jacket and Eidra tumbled to the ground with a scream.  
“I said MOVE!” Menyir roared, kneeling down before Eidra to tip her face upright with two long fingers.  
“How dare you touch my mother!” Fen howled but before he could reach her, Menyir had shoved him backwards to sprawl in the freezing slush beside the wagon.  
“I do as I please, whelp! And it pleases me to afford a better look.....OWOOO!”Menyir yanked his hand away from Eidra as she slashed at the air once more with her dagger, scrambling over to Fen who had risen to his hands and knees.  
“Am I surrounded by FOOLS?” Menyir held his forefinger tightly, blood dripping down to darken the snow behind the wagon, “Did no one think to remove their weapons from them?”  
“Sire, it was Sulyir entered the hovel first. He should have seen to it,” Hobnir gestured to Sulyir who glared at him.  
“He is no warrior. 'Twas you should have thought to do so!”  
“Your Highness? What's happened?”  
Fen, helping his mother to her feet, turned to see a beautiful woman step out of the large shelter.  
“Eris,” Sulyir bent down, doing his best to shuffle her back into the shelter, “Go inside. It is too cold for you out here.”  
“Bullshit. I was raised in New England. This is nothing. What the hell is going on?”  
Fen was taken aback. The woman was Midgardian. Before he could address her however, Stark was back on his feet again.  
“You want to know what's going on? Your friends are murderers! Sick, black hearted murderers! They pulled these people out of their home, killed this woman's son.....!”  
Eidra let out a screech, endeavoring to free herself from Fen's grasp for another slash at Menyir.  
“....and are now waging war on a city full of innocent people! All because of you!”  
“Sulyir,” Eris cried, “Oh my god! You promised me! You promised no one would get hurt!”  
“It...it...was not my doing,” Sulyir stammered, “Hobnir is the culprit!”  
“ENOUGH!” Menyir bellowed, startling all into silence, “Hobnir, ready your warriors! We have what we need. We march to the city.”


	81. 81

Colin's hands had been shaking since the attack began. He shifted the crossbow to his left hand again, staring out over the balcony railing.  
“We are outnumbered. Our men are all but helpless,” came Thor's low rumble beside him. Colin eyed the King, a sword dark with blood in one hand, his war hammer abandoned on the balcony floor. He had fought alongside his men for hours until they had been driven back behind the city walls, begging him to retreat to the safety of the palace, a suggestion he had reluctantly abided by.   
“They seem to be holding their own, yer Highness,” he lied. In all actuality, the darkness had graciously obscured some of the more serious breaches in the walls but the fighting was growing closer to the palace itself. This had to be what he was here for but what was he supposed to do? He felt useless He had only held three of the four runes and he hadn't the slightest idea where the fourth one was hidden. It was like holding a loaded gun with no trigger.   
“They're getting closer.”  
Colin turned to see Jane, leaning on the balcony railing, “Aye, I didn't want to scare the Queen mother.”  
He looked over his shoulder at Frigga who was sitting in a high backed chair, Tamarin on a low stool before her, holding her hand, stroking it gently.  
“She's stronger than we think.”  
Colin had to agree at least in part. When one of the royal guards had come to the bedchamber to inform them Heimdall had fallen and the Bifrost was taken, she'd thanked him for his trouble and sent him back to the fighting, muttering under her breath that had she a sword and a horse, she would ride out to the bridge and reclaim it herself.  
“I am returning to battle,” Thor grunted, hefting the hammer to his shoulder, “I cannot stand by and watch Asgard fall.”  
He kissed Jane's forehead and was gone, his heavy footsteps echoing in the corridor. Jane gave Colin a rueful grin, “I can't stand here and watch this any longer.”  
She drifted into the bedchamber, taking a seat beside Frigga, leaving Colin to watch the city fall.  
All they could do now was wait and watch.

 

“Loki!”  
He heard his name, a muffled faraway echo as he dropped to his hands and knees on the hard plank walkway, a wave of anguish coursing through him. He felt as if his heart were breaking.  
“Brother! Are you hit?” Thor put a hand at his back, “Guards! To the prince!”  
Loki shook his head, “No, no. I must go to my family. Something has happened!”  
“What do you mean?” Thor tugged at his arm but he yanked free.  
“I should have fetched them as I wished. Something is wrong!”  
“Sire,” one of the guards called out, “The Jotunns are retreating!”  
Thor leaped to his feet to gaze out over the parapet walls. Lit by the blazing light of the countless torches spread out across the field of battle, the Jotunn were indeed falling back to the distant tree lines, pursued by the guardsmen as a shout of victory rose into the air.  
“They were very nearly victorious. Something is indeed amiss,” Thor turned to Loki who had regained his feet, “What do you make of it?”  
“I do not know but that it might give me a chance to reach Eidra. I must beg your leave.”  
“To leave now would be suicide!” Thor pointed in the direction of the fields, “The Jotunns could well be amassing for a final assault. We must hold the city!”  
All at once, the shouts of victory were transformed into screams issuing forth from troops running toward the city walls in a panicked charge. Behind them, swirling between the trees, frosting the trunks in an icy shroud, came a thick white mist, its tendrils reaching, curling around a line of guardsmen. Unable to outrun the frigid mist, they fell, frozen in their tracks, mouths open in silent cries of terror, eyes wide, unseeing.  
“They have the casket,” Thor growled.

 

“I don't know what it is,” Colin squinted, leaning outward over the balcony railing. Frigga's bedchamber was on the western side of the palace. Whatever was coming through the forests surrounding the city, was coming from the north, “It looks like smoke....”

 

“Smoke?” Lelia narrowed her eyes, straining to see as they descended the hillside, “Are they setting fire to the forest do ye think?”  
“I don't see any flames,” Simon stopped, waiting for his eyes to adjust, “I see a blue glow but I can't make out what it's coming from. It's too far away. We have to get closer.”  
“Yer mad,” Lelia gasped as Simon changed direction, heading sideways down the hill toward the light, “We'll be caught fer sure.”  
“I'm not getting that close. I just want to know what we're facing. Come on.”

 

Streaks of lightning crackled across the field, dissipating when they met the mist, leaving a heavy scent of ozone as the mist advanced, billowing upward into the sky. Thor dropped his hammer to the walkway with a roar, “Open the gates! Sound the retreat! Odin's beard!”  
“Look. I see it!” Loki pointed at a brilliant point of blue light emerging from the tree line, “Guard! Hand me your spyglass!”  
“Step away from the parapet walls,” Thor cried, clutching his hand to his chest, “The stones are freezing solid! We must retreat!”  
Loki swung the spyglass about, desperate to pick the casket out of the inky darkness, “Clear the walkways before the men freeze to death! Wait...I see it!”  
“The casket? Who holds it? Loki?”  
“Great Freyr. It is Menyir! He is leading a group of warriors....there appears to be a wagon in their midst........”  
Loki lowered the spyglass, letting it slip to the walkway with a solid thunk as he stumbled away from the wall, squatting down, his hands atop his head, “Gods, GODS! It cannot be! It CANNOT BE!”  
“Loki?” Thor bent over, swiping the spyglass from the walkway, “What did you see?”  
“I should never have listened to you!” Loki cried, fists banging the hard planks, “What did you care? Your family was safe here inside the palace while mine was in the countryside unprotected and now they are captive to that Jotunn scum! Do you see?” Loki leaped to his feet, grabbing Thor by the arm, “Do you see my boy at the wagon seat?!”  
Thor stood there, silent. The guards along the wall, watching, waiting for his orders.  
“Douse the torches,” he muttered to one of the guards beside him, hurling the spyglass out over the wall.  
“But, your Majesty, they will believe we have surrendered,” the guard looked about at his fellow guardsmen at the ready in the city streets below.  
“Douse the torches or I do swear by Gungnir, you will feel the weight of the executioner's axe this night!” Thor bellowed, grabbing the guard by his breastplate, “Do you ken?”  
“I...ken, your Majesty!” the guard cried, scrambling toward the nearest torch when Thor relaxed his grip.  
“Open the gates of the city. Tell the guards to stand down. We have lost too much already. We must find out his terms.”

 

“The torches are going out,” Colin murmured turning to Jane and Frigga who were sitting before the fireplace, “They're extinguishing the torches along the city walls. What does it mean? Is the battle finished?”  
Frigga leaned back in her chair, her eyes shut, “I am afraid it is, Master Denehy.”

 

“No,” Fen whispered, “The gods have abandoned us.”  
In the back of the wagon Stark rose to his knees, “What did you say?”  
“They are surrendering, do you not see the torches going out?” Fen stood from the seat, his arms outstretched toward the city, “Asgard has fallen.”  
“Nonsense,” Menyir whirled about to regard Fen, “The city still stands, and it may continue to stand if those within its walls comply with my demands.”  
“Liar!” Fen spat, “From our cradles we have been told stories of your people, whose hearts are as cold as the land from which they spring. You revel in war, you are masters of treachery, incapable of mercy even unto those who bend to your wishes!”  
“Fen, Jesus sit down and shut up,” Tony hissed, glancing at Eidra who sat beside Helgi, her face shrouded in grief, “I don't want another death on my hands.”  
“Let the boy speak, Midgardian,” Menyir tut-tutted, “He has the right to do so for now though he waste his breath. His accusations mean nothing to me.”  
“Fen,” came Eidra's voice, soft, low from the back of the wagon, “Sit down.”  
Fen stood quivering for a long minute until at last, holding Menyir's gaze, he regained his seat. With a satisfied nod, Menyir lowered the casket, waving his hand high over his head with a chuckle, “Now we must deliver you back into the arms of your family. Is that not merciful enough for you?”

 

“Yer Higness, it's safer for you here in your quarters,” Colin looked toward the doors.  
“Perhaps,” Frigga drew her robe around her shoulders, leaving Tamarin to fuss with the clasp, “But I am a High Queen of the realm, wife of Odin Allfather. What a disgrace it would be to our family were I to cower in fear in my bedchamber leaving my sons to face those...those.”  
“Demons,” Jane rasped.  
“Demons, yes. I cannot let my family face those demons alone...Oh Tamarin stop your blubbering and stiffen your backbone. I refuse to show weakness to the Jotunns. They prey upon it.”  
Frigga strode to the door with a speed defying her years, throwing it wide and offering her arm to Jane, “Come, my dear, let us not be afraid. You too, Master Denehy.”  
“Feck it all,” he grunted as he followed the women into the corridor.

 

Thor stood, stone faced on the steps of the palace, Loki pacing back and forth beside him, his sword drawn.  
“Where in Hel are they? How long does it take to cross the outer fields?”  
Thor said nothing, merely looked at the statue of Odin, standing proudly in the middle of the fountain, shoulders white with snow, and shook his head. . The crowds in the square milled about, anxious, waiting for the gates to open. Tension rent the air with a hum like the angry buzzing of bees.   
“Silas? Do you see them?!” Thor shouted.  
From the lookout atop the main gate, Silas pointed out into the darkness, “They are very nearly here.”  
Behind them the palace doors creaked open and Thor whirled about, his face contorted with anger, “Mother! You should be inside, safe!”  
“I told her the same thing, yer Majesty,” Colin nodded, “But she insisted upon coming down.”  
“It is our battle, my son,” Frigga clasped her hands before her, chin forward in defiance, “And also is it our defeat. We will face either outcome together.”  
Loki stopped beside Colin and took him by the arm, “The Jotunn have Eidra and the children.”  
“What?!”  
But before Loki could reply, there was a shout and the tall double doors began to swing open, the guards parting the sea of people, clearing a path to the palace steps.  
“Hold your place,” Thor muttered when Loki stepped forward, “And sheath your sword, by the gods!”  
However, Loki seemed not to hear him as he trotted down the steps.  
“Loki!” Thor roared, following close behind, “Do not be a fool!”  
“My family is in that wagon!” Loki spat over his shoulder, “You would do no different.”  
“STOP!” Thor grabbed him by the collar of his cloak, laying hold of his sword arm, “The Jotunns will not hesitate to retaliate at the least aggression. You know this as well as I.”  
The gates ground to a halt, the crowd falling silent when Menyir passed beneath the arch, holding out before him the casket which he lifted high above his head. Trena's voice echoed in Colin's head.  
_“The Cask of the Jotunns,”_ Trena's voice echoed in Colin's head as he scanned the crowded square, the women holding tightly to their children, the men with their swords, pitchforks, scythes, at the ready, _“Were they to possess it again, they would bury the nine realms in an endless winter.”_  
“The casket of the Jotunns has been returned to its rightful home!” Mentir's voice filled the air cutting through the silence, the people shrinking away from him when his gaze chanced to fall upon them, “In my hands I hold the power to encase Asgard and its citizens, nay, the entire realm, in ice,” slowly he lowered the casket to stare at Thor and Loki, “But I have not come here to make idle threats or revel in simple conquest.”  
Menyir gestured for one of his warriors to step forward, placing the casket into his hands with a nod and waving to the archway behind him.  
“Thus as a means to an end, I have taken the liberty of bringing goods to barter with you in return for your cooperation.”  
When the wagon rolled under the arch, Loki broke free of Thor's grasp, sprinting past Menyir who merely smiled as if watching a small child to whom he had given a grand gift.  
“Fen! Eidra!” Loki yelled, dropping his sword to the ground, racing toward the wagon only to be stopped by a great pair of hands.  
“Loki!” Eidra cried struggling to rise to her knees in the wagon bed, “Oh please let him go!”  
“LET ME SEE MY WIFE!” Loki roared straining to break free from the warrior who had stopped him, “LET ME GO!”  
“Not yet, my brother,” Menyir laughed, “We have much to discuss before I can release your precious brood.”  
“Let him go, you sonofabitch!”  
Stark had leaped down from the wagon and was now striding toward Loki and the guard, “It's his goddamn family. You've got the game ball so give the losing team some slack.”  
Stark stopped before Loki, giving him a wink as he pulled a short round object from his pocket, “Might want to brace yourself.”  
With a nod, Stark jammed the object into the Jotunn's wrist. The Jotunn stiffened, his teeth bared as he dropped to his knees, releasing Loki from his grasp.  
Without warning, Hobnir swooped down upon Stark, tossing him against the open gate where he fell to the ground in a heap.  
“Mister Stark!” Chase leaped to the ground, sprinting to where Stark lay gasping as Loki reached the end of the wagon, barely managing to catch Eidra as she climbed from the wagon bed, enfolding her in his arms.  
“Eidra! I tried to reach you but we were besieged! We could not hold the Jotunns back!” Loki looked up into the wagon bed, holding his arm out to Cait and Astrid who leaned forward to secure themselves about his neck with great sobs, “Thank the gods you are safe...where is Brynn?”  
“He is gone!” Eidra wailed, clutching the front of Loki's armor, “When the Jotunn came to take us he had an attack...I could not save him! Forgive me!”  
“I tried,” came Beth's choked interjection, “I did all I could. I tried to save him but it was too late.”  
“What?” Loki whispered, stumbling against the wagon, staring up at Helgi and Ingrid, “Gone....”  
“There was nothing we could do,” Helgi touched the shroud as Fen covered his face with his hands, curling forward in the wagon seat.  
Loki scrambled up into the wagon bed, crawling to Brynn's body where heson' drew the blanket from his son's face, caressed his cold cheek.  
“My brave boy. My brave, brave boy,” he sobbed, gathering Brynn into his arms, letting out an anguished roar which echoed across the square, rocking back and forth, his cheek pressed to Brynn's temple as Eidra pulled herself back into the wagon to drape herself across his shoulders. The sounds of weeping rippled across the crowd until at last Menyir nodded to the warriors behind the wagon.  
“Enough. Return him to his place.”  
When the two Jotunn warriors took Loki by the arms to lift him from the wagon bed, Eidra shrieked, grabbing Loki's hand but the warriors shook her free.  
“NOOOO! LEAVE HIM BE!” Eidra howled, barred from rejoining her husband by Hobnir's grasp on the collar of her cloak.   
Menyir smirked at the scene playing out before him, his warriors shoving Loki to the cobblestones before Thor who moved to stand over Loki, trembling with rage,“Jotunn scum! Cowards! You are unworthy to tread on the same ground as the lowest beggar in this realm!” .  
Menyir squatted down level with Thor, all trace of mirth vanished from his countenance, “I grow tired of this tableau. There is much still to be done. Might we retreat inside the palace or would you rather we discuss the terms of surrender here in the square among your subjects?”  
Thor, his face crimson, knelt down beside Loki to growl into his ear, “Brother, to your feet. We must to the Great hall. If not for me then for your family!”  
Ever so slowly, Loki rose to stand, swaying in place until Thor locked his arm into Loki's elbow, bolstering him as they started up the stairs into the palace.  
“Bring the captives,” Menyir called to Hobnir, “...  
“I cannot leave Brynn alone. I cannot!”  
“Come child,” Helgi put an arm around her shoulder, nodding to Stark who now leaned against the wagon holding his head, “He will be safe.”  
Stark waved a hand at Sulyir who, with Eris, had now now drawn even with them, “Helgi's right, Eidra. Our friends from the north will take care of the wagon.”  
Sulyir slowed his pace, calling to Hobnir, “Bring the wagon into the palace and be gentle about it!”  
Eidra hesitated until at last Tony joined Helgi and together they began to guide her toward the palace steps.  
“What are they going to do with us now, Master Stark.?” Ingrid whispered, swinging Edie down to the ground from the wagon bed.  
“I don't know,” Stark stared in the direction of the palace doors, “I honestly don't know.”


	82. 82

As the contingent passed before Colin on their way into the palace, he hung his head, unable to face Eidra, Stark, the children. He'd failed Loki and his family, his employers back on Earth, the whole project, . The city had been taken at the appalling expense of many of Asgard's finest warriors while he had been helpless, only able to stand back and watch the debacle. Frigga had taken Tamarin's arm again, her face a mask of exhaustion though her eyes sparkled like brilliant sapphires as she regarded the Jotunns with a look of pure disgust. The journey through the palace halls, following behind the enemy who herded Stark, Chase and Loki's family between them like cattle to the slaughter. Those of the High Council who had still been in attendance before the attack, stood in a group talking with one another at the far end of the Great Hall but when the contingent arrived, voices fell away, hushed by the grave mien of their King, leading the party, Loki at his side, silent, resolute. Members of the Aesir who'd been milling about speaking in low whispers to one another could do naught but stare now, judging in silence. On their way through the Great hall Colin spied Trena and her new aide and he had to suppress the urge to clamp his hands around her throat.  
“Protector my arse,” he muttered to himself.  
When Menyir entered the Great Hall, all conversation seemed to cease, the only sound to break the silence, Astrid's soft crying as she hid her face against Eidra's neck.  
Thor approached the council members, leaning in to speak to them, letting Loki to stand alone and Colin thought for a moment his friend was going to collapse to the floor but he retained his balance, muttering under his breath like a man possessed. After a moment's heated exchange and a raised exclamation, “Outrageous! Unheard of!”, Thor turned away from the council members to grunt at Menyir.  
“State your terms.”  
Menyir tilted his head, “ 'Tis over just like that? You have not offered me a seat, refreshments. And they call us barbaric.”  
“State your terms,” Thor retorted, “You will receive no hospitality from me this day or any other.”  
“Very well,” Menyir pressed his hands together before him, “I would we could have conducted ourselves properly and with mutual respect toward one another.”  
“Respect?” Thor roared, raising his hammer in the air, “To thieves, to bloodthirsty, power mad maniacs? Never!”  
“Thieves?” Menyir countered, stepping closer, “How now thieves? Your father stole the casket from Jotunheim! He took from us our most sacred object and locked it away in his palace as a memento of his savage invasion of our realm!”  
“My father took the casket to prevent from happening this very thing that has now come to pass,” Thor gestured about the hall, “Because he knew the Jotunns would use the casket to rule the realms. Is that not what you now intend?” Do not insult me with further lies.”  
A smile grew on Menyir's face as he regarded the faces staring up at him, “I must confess what I have done I have done to avenge your father's larceny, his overblown, far reaching influence upon the realms. My own wish to rule is a secondary consideration though not entirely out of the question.”  
“Do not insult me with further lies!” Thor drew closer to Menyir.  
“And do not think I will brook your breach of conduct!” Menyir leaned over, hand on the hilt of his sword, “I speak the truth. I have waited to avenge the Allfather's misdeeds upon our realm, upon my family, for an age and now I find within my grasp, the tools with which to effect this reversal of fortune thus do I come to my first request. I require the Midgardian you call Simon Foster.”  
A murmur arose through the crowds gathered in the hall as Colin felt his heart begin to race.  
“He is not here in the palace,” Thor looked about the crowd, “But even were he here, he would not be mine to surrender. Why do you seek him out?”  
“Suffice it to say I am told he is wise beyond measure,” Menyir frowned, “That is all you need know.”  
“And all you need know is that he does not dwell in this city, nor in the realm of Asgard. You will not find him.”  
“We shall see,” Menyir chuckled, bending down to stare at Thor, “I have captured a number of your Midgardian friends and not a one of them claim to be the man called Simon Foster though I imagine they would be happy to point him out if it meant their freedom.”  
“Have you ever fecking seen him?”Colin spat, “Because that's the only way yer going to know if they're telling the truth. Every agent, every tech has been trained in how to act in a hostage situation and that includes what to tell the enemy.”  
Menyir's eyes flickered to Colin, “You have great confidence in your people and so I must assume you have never seen what secrets can be extracted under torture but we have no need of such methods this time. I confess, though I have not seen this Simon Foster I have with me one who has. Eris?”  
With a young blond haired man at her side, Eris sailed past him, past Stark, Eidra, the children, and he was certian that had he his revolver, he would have happily put a bullet between her eyes.  
When she stopped beside Menyir, she caught sight of Colin's hateful gaze and smiled though he could see a measure of fear in her eyes.  
“It would seem the Midgardians have some small measure of honor for before you stands our deliverer. It was she who placed the casket in our hands, restored our ancient relic. It is she who will warn us if you seek to deceive.”  
“Impossible!” Thor cried, striding up to Eris, “How could a mere Midgardian break into the reliquary and steal the casket.”  
“You forgot escaping your prison cell,” Eris cooed, “And freeing that poor forgotten woman you kept locked away.”  
With a bellow, Thor reached for Eris's throat only to close his fingers about nothing.  
“I think you have your answer,” came a whisper in his ear as he pivoted about, his fist punching the air.  
“You see,” Menyir laughed as Eris reappeared at his side, “Do not feel at fault for letting the casket slip through your fingers. It is well nigh impossible to prepare for every contingent. Now I repeat my request, give me the man known as Simon Foster.”  
“He is not here. I told you. He left on a journey some moons ago and has not been seen since. I know not whether he be alive or dead.”  
“Then I suggest you find him,” Menyir's face darkened as, with a flourish, he stepped aside, nodding to Loki, “Go to your family.”  
Loki rushed forward, enfolding Eidra in his arms once again, clinging to her with a cry of relief.  
“How touching,” Menyir clasped his hands behind his back, “A family reunited..... which brings me to my second request.”  
Menyir swung about to glare at Thor once more, “Return my brother to me.”

 

“Agent Hoffman?”  
Lily looked up from a neon green hologram hovering in the air above her tablet to the young technician sitting at the desk to the right of the ramp, “Yep?”  
“The portal on Asgard didn't respond to our pings.”  
Lily set the tablet down on the desk, staring at the power output levels on the technician's screen, “Did you ping Longhouse one or two?”  
“One, Ma'am.”  
“Try two.”  
“Yes, Ma'am.”  
The screen blinked, showing a graph for the portal at Longhouse two, the bars flat across the graph, “Well what the hell? Did you receive any reports for scheduled maintenance? Any power blackouts?”  
“No, Ma'am but neither portal is responding.”  
Lily reached up and tapped the screen, “How often do the computers ping the portals?”  
“Every half hour,” the technician peered at the screen, “As required.”  
When was the last good ping?”  
The technician slid another screen from behind the first one, drawing it in closer, “According to the chart, the last returned ping was this afternoon at thirteen hundred hours, just under an hour ago but since we received no alerts, I assumed it could have been emergency maintenance. Maybe the solar banks were down or they were having computer issues ,” she looked up at Lily, “Should we alert the Director?”  
“No, let me take the bridge home and see what's going on. You might be right. They're probably doing repairs or tests or something and didn't let us know. Stark is famous for that. I'll report back when I find out.”  
Lily stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the flight deck. She hated to travel this way. The portal was one step, the bridge involved calling Heimdall, walking the bridge to the city, getting a horse and riding to the longhouses. When the elevator door slid open, letting a blast of cold air inside, she groaned. There was a storm coming up the coast and the wind at the landing pad would likely be gale force. She'd had nightmares about being blown off the top of the building and it was with no small amount of fear that she forced the pad door open and stepped out into the sunlight. She hurried to the center of the pad, holding her dress down at her thighs as she looked up into the sky.  
“Heimdall, open the Bifrost!”  
Seconds ticked by.  
“Heimdall!” she yelled, “Open the Bifrost, please?!”  
A tingle of adrenaline shot down her spine, “Heimdall!”  
She stumbled a bit as the wind buffeted her hard, “What is it, tea time? Heimdall!!”  
Silence. All at once, she pivoted about and hurried for the flight deck door, her heart racing. Something was very wrong.

 

Eris moved closer to Sulyir, frightened and angry that she felt so ill at ease. She'd worked so hard to reach this point, she'd wanted more than anything to succeed yet now as she watched Thor rail against Menyir's request while around Loki, his family clamored in fear, all she wanted was to excuse herself and slink away to the tavern to start her shift. She knew she'd never walk through the tavern doors again, however, and she groped for Sulyir's hand.  
“This is wrong,” she whispered.  
“Stop it,” Sulyir hissed, “Stop saying that. Asgard has ruled the realms with an iron fist, treating my brethren as exiles...”  
“But tearing him away from his family, his children.”  
“You knew. You knew he had a wife, family and you were still willing to go through with this.”  
“Well then I was wrong,” she let go of his hand.  
“And there is nothing for it now,” Sulyir nodded toward the exchange between Menyir and Thor, “His will be done.”

 

“Loki is a prince of the realm!” Thor was crimson with rage, his hand curled about the shaft of his hammer in a white knuckled grip, “And brother to me alone! You are not worthy to speak his name let alone call him one of your own.”  
Menyir shook his head as murmurs arose from the crowd, “He is brother to you by mere circumstance. Why do you struggle so in the face of truth? For pride? Fear that your subjects will reject him when his true origins have been fodder for gossip in the streets of the city for ages?”  
Menyir turned to Loki and crooked a finger at him, “Step forward.”

Loki felt Eidra stiffen against his side though he watched the scene before him with frightening detachment. It was the only way to keep from losing his mind. His world was unraveling. He thought of the countless times he could have told Eidra of his origins, the whispers she must have endured, the laughter hidden behind hands as she passed by yet never once had she asked him if the rumors were true. Soon after Brenna's rescue on Midgard, she'd urged him to tell Eidra.  
_“What if Mama found out people were telling the truth all these seasons? I have seen it, Papa, I have seen everything and I still love you. She knows of your past, the attack on New York and yet she is by your side to this day. Why have you so little faith that revealing what you are will give her cause to think any differently?”_  
“Consider this. Your family is not yet free from my influence. Now step forward.”  
“Loki, no, please,” Eidra whimpered, “He is mad. Do not leave us!”  
“Did you not hear him?” Loki murmured, unclasping her hands from around his neck and guiding her to Fen's arms, “Do not ask me to stand by and watch him destroy all I hold dear.”  
He turned to face Menyir, his gaze flickering to Thor, his face, his body tense with rage. Frigga, her hands to her mouth, eyes brimming with tears all pretense of bravery vanished, Jane staring hard at the floor, Colin, his mouth set in grim determination.  
“What do you wish of me, Menyir?”  
“Eris, come here, bring your gifts.”  
Eris stepped forward holding two bracelets in her hands, willing herself steady as she halted before Loki. When his eyes met hers, however, she had to avert her gaze. Here before her stood a man capable of incredible cruelty, an infamous butcher, a seasoned warrior, a devoted father, loving husband, benevolent adviser. Nothing she would ever deserve to enjoy even were she to live a thousand years. She was scum of the earth, even on Asgard.  
Menyir scanned the hall, “All within the sound of my voice, heed my words,” he then peered down at Loki, “Before Eris bestows upon you my gifts, know this. You have lived with the Allfather's lies long enough. You were not left to die in the temple of the Ancients as you have been led to believe all you life. LIES! You were ripped from our mother's arms. I saw it all with mine own eyes from beneath her bed where she'd told me to hide. I watched as Odin ran our mother through with his spear, swearing to the gods that he would end the reign of Farbauti. I expected he would run you through as well but instead he spirited you away, to what purpose I knew not until I came of age for the throne of Jotunheim. Without a successor, without a brother or sister to maintain the continuation of our line and no offspring, I have had to defend my right to rule each cycle in contest against my contenders but I grow old. It is inevitable I will soon lose to one stronger than me. Now, however, with your return, my brother, there will sit at my right hand, a successor, a with a reputation to match the fiercest of Jotunns.”  
Loki closed his eyes, shutting out Frigga's anguished face, “I am Loki of Asgard, son of Odin and Frigga, brother to Thor.”  
“YOU ARE LOKI OF JOTUNHEIM!” Menyir roared, “You belong among your brethren! You will rule our realm one day after I am defeated by death!”  
“I am Loki of Asgard, son of.....hhnnn!  
Menyir's hand struck his chest dead center , knocking the wind from his lungs as he flew backward to land in a heap at Eidra's feet.  
“Monster!” she screeched, dropping down beside him, “Dokkalfar! Do not touch my husband again. You have had your answer! He will not bend to you!”  
Menyir bent down until their faces were even, “He will do all this and more.”  
At a wave of his hand, Hobnir stepped forward, pulling Eidra to her feet, separating her from the group.  
“Mama!” Cait leaped forward, the skirt of her dress snatched at the last by Tony who yanked her back to hold her, thrashing and screaming against his chest.  
“Let...my wife... go!” Loki rasped, struggling to regain his footing, “LET HER GO!”  
“Submit to me and I will release your family,” Menyir gestured to Eris who held up the bracelets in trembling hands, “I will take you away from this pain, this tragedy. I will restore you to glory.”  
“Loki, no!” Thor cried, “Menyir, you have the casket...”  
“I came here seeking far more than the casket,” Menyir laughed, “I came here meaning to crush your kingdom, destroy your pride, now I will rip out your heart, Eris?”  
Eris opened the first bracelet and held it out to Loki, “Please. He won't stop until he gets what he wants. Think of your children.”  
“You have no right to speak of my family, whore!” Loki hissed, “Do as your master commands you.”  
With a final look over his shoulder at Eidra, he held up his wrists.

 

Eris snapped the first bracelet shut upon Loki's wrist, watching him sway precariously, gasp for breath. When she fastened the second one and stepped back, she nearly dropped to the floor as he staggered backwards with an animal howl holding his hands before his face, watching his skin darken to a brilliant blue, the color crawling up his arms to his shoulders, bringing with it the raised striations of the Jotunn people, creeping higher to his neck, his face.   
When Menyir nodded to Hobnir, the Jotunn warrior released Eidra, laughing as she rushed to Loki who had now fallen to his knees. She grabbed his wrist, tearing first at one bracelet, then the other, tears blurring her vision, her shrieks of frustration echoing through the now silent hall, unwilling to admit defeat until she chanced to look up into his face.  
“No, no, no!” she raised a hand to caress his cheek, “Loki, take the bracelets off!!”

 

_Bracelets._ He looked down at his wrists then back up into the face of the Asgardian woman kneeling before him. His head buzzed with images, sounds, scents, pulsing and fading away like flashes of lightning. An Asgardian baby, squalling in his arms....a rotund man with white hair and a beard, laughing....the soft brush of a muzzle, the smell of hay....the fury of battle...standing at the shore of a vast ocean....kissing....smiling.....  
“Loki! Take them off!”  
And then there was nothing. He was in a room filled with strangers, enemies. He looked past the woman to a face, hovering over him.   
“Better. Much better. Rise, brother.”  
He stood to his feet and all at once, the woman was before him again clutching at his arm, “Loki! Oh Gods! No!”  
With a growl, he shoved her to the floor, “Away from me, wench!”  
He watched a bearded man rush to help the woman, heard the man-child cry out, “Mama!”  
_“They are beneath us,”_ came the voice of the Jotunn who was now speaking in a language once familiar to him. He screwed his eyes shut, the words were buried so very deep.  
“The enchantment which Odin placed upon my brother has been broken!” Menyir roared to the crowds, “He is no longer your relic, your possession. All that he was has been destroyed so that he may learn all he might be,” he turned to Thor then, “You have two dawns to turn over Simon Foster. If you succeed, you will be spared. If you fail, your realm will perish in an endless winter.”  
“What of the prisoners?” Hobnir gestured to the group now surrounding Eidra, forming a wall of protection around her.  
“What of them? I have what I came for. They have served their purpose. We will retreat to our outpost to wait,” Menyir gestured Loki to his side, “I have much to discuss with my brother.”


	83. 83

Colin watched Tony lift Eidra into his arms as Loki passed by, walking with Menyir, casting not so much as a glance at his family, the children screaming for him even in his transformed state. Only when they'd reached the archway did Thor falter, dropping his hammer to the floor while Jane hurried to his side. Tamarin had eased Frigga onto a nearby bench. Ingrid and Helgi were clustered to Stark's side, holding Eidra's hand while Fen tried in vain to comfort the girls who had taken to great sobbing. Chase stood apart from the rest, hands to the side of his face which seemed frozen in permanent shock. Gretten was supporting Beth who had turned sheet white, hands clutched protectively around her belly. The room had erupted into chaotic shouts, calls for the King to speak. When one of the Aesir demand loudly for the Midgardians to give Simon Foster over to the Jotunns Colin could take no more. He hurried to where Tony knelt on the floor with Helgi, trying to bring Eidra around.  
“What are we going to do?”  
“We're going to take care of our own,” Tony muttered, “Come on, kid. Open your eyes for me.”  
“That's it? That's your plan?” Colin ran a hand through his hair, “We're gonna sit here and do fuck all while those blue bastards kidnap Loki and take over the whole of Asgard?”  
“You did see him go with them under his own power didn't you!” Tony cried, staring up at Colin, “I'll tell you what I'm not. I'm not a miracle worker. I told you my hands were tied when we crossed over into Asgard. My techs were unarmed. The agents had guns with rubber bullets designed to incapacitate and you can just imagine how well they worked! When those guys came through that portal they were already pretty well informed thanks to your little lost lamb. They took our markers, destroyed Portal one and commandeered Portal two. We have to find a way out of this ourselves or the Asgardians are going to be looking at a lot worse than a bunch of giants with a freeze ray.”  
“You still think our boys are a bigger threat than turning Asgard into the North Pole?” Colin squatted down beside him, “Yer off yer nut.”  
“You don't remember New York do you.....”  
Eidra's eyes fluttered open, her hands flying about as she took a sharp breath and Tony sat her up, “There you go. There's our princess. Let's get you someplace comfortable.”  
But all at once, she was on her hands and knees, scanning the crowd, frantic.  
“Where is Loki? Where is my husband?”  
“Eidra,” Colin called to her as she pushed herself to stand, stumbling toward Thor who was surrounded with council members, citizens all clamoring for answers, “Wait!”  
Eidra broke through the crowd, grabbing at Thor's arm, “Where is Loki? I must see my husband!”  
Tony and Colin elbowed their way through behind her while Thor struggled to speak. One of the Aesir however, the man whom Colin had overheard calling to find Simon, glared at her, “Your husband has turned traitor to the realm. He is a Jotunn! An enemy of Asgard!”  
Before either of them could lay a hand on her, she pivoted about with a screech to lunge at the surprised man, striking him about the chest and face with her fists, lost in a fury of anger and grief, “BASTARD! Had I my dagger I would cut out your TONGUE!!”  
Thor wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her away leaving the man on his knees, holding the sleeve of his robe up to his bleeding nose, his curses blunted beneath the fabric.  
When at last Thor sat her down on her feet, she collapsed again, this time caught by Colin who lifted her into his arms, “We have to get her into bed. She's in shock.”  
“As are we all,” Thor grunted, “I will attend to the council first, then I will come find you. We must talk.”  
Colin nodded in agreement though for a moment he was left to wonder if Thor knew what he was. If he did, he gave no indication, turning back to the people about him, after one more glance at Eidra. On their way past the Aesir who had so rudely spoken to Eidra, Colin fought the urge to kick him in the balls, instead focused on the woman in his arms.  
They had started from the hall, Colin leading the way with Eidra, Fen and the others herding the children between them when Chase stopped in his tracks, “Jesus Christ! Shit, shit!”  
“What's wrong?” Tony glanced at him as he passed by, “Suddenly realized we're in deep?”  
“No,” Chase laced his hands atop his head, “Damnit! Before she left to visit Sophie, Brenna was talking about come home for the day before my leave and then we were going to go back to Earth together.”  
Colin stopped walking, “Yer kidding right?”  
“No, and my leave starts tomorrow.”

 

The sound of running water made Sophie groan, pulling the sheets over her head but not before she'd caught a glimpse of the clock on her nightstand.  
“Six-freakin'-thirty? Really?”  
The water continued to chip away at her resolve, pricking at her bladder until she threw the covers off her with a loud grunt, trudging to the bathroom door, leaning her forehead against the wood, “Hey, I gotta pee. Can I come in?”  
“Yes,” came Brenna's nearly inaudible reply, “I am getting into the shower.”  
Sophie closed the door behind her and dropped down onto the toilet seat, waving at the steam billowing out from behind the shower curtain, “Geez how can you stand the water so hot?”  
“I have always taken hot baths. I suppose I am used to it.”  
“There's a difference between hot and scalding,” Sophie sat there for a minute after she'd relieved herself, the steam and the heat making her drowsy again, “You know if I were insecure, I'd think you couldn't wait to get away from me.”  
Brenna's sodden head appeared around the edge of the curtain, “How can you say this? You are my best friend.”  
“Mmm,” Sophie reached up to pushed her back behind the curtain, “You're dripping water all over the floor. I'm just saying, you're up awful early to go home.”  
“In my house, this is rather late. My father and mother are early risers. Besides I miss my family. Do you never miss yours?”  
“Yup, until about ten minutes after I get home then I'm good for another stretch. You've been to my house. You know what I mean.”  
“Well I also miss Chase.”  
“Mmmhmm.”  
Brenna poked her head around the curtain again, “What?”  
“You miss the horizontal mambo is what you miss now will you finish your shower? The tiles are gonna be a skating rink when you get out.”  
Sophie lowered the lid on the toilet and sat back down, wincing at the chill of the cold plastic seeping through her silk nightie.  
“I would be lying if I did not admit you were right,” Brenna murmured.  
The water stopped running with a squeak of the faucet handles and Sophie grabbed the towel off the back of the toilet.  
“Does your dad know you're sleeping with Chase? He can't, can he because Chase is still alive.”  
Brenna slid the curtain back, taking the towel from Sophie who looked at her friend's body with a grudging admiration, “Girl you have such great curves, honestly I'm jealous. Me, I'm a blond scarecrow.”  
Brenna began to towel off her hair, “You flatter me. I have always envied your lithe form, your pale complexion.”  
“Damn with the SAT words first thing in the morning,” Sophie laughed, “And you skirted the question like an expert. Does daddy know you're broken in?”  
Brenna put one leg on the edge of the tub to dry it, “He does, or in the very least he suspects. Mother knows full well. I could never fool her.”  
“Then Chase is one lucky bastard. I expected your father would have had him beheaded or something by now.”  
“Sophie!” Brenna cried, swatting at her with the towel, “Perish the thought. Such punishment is saved for high treason and murder.”  
“I was kidding actually. They still do that stuff in Asgard?” Sophie shivered.  
“When the crime merits it. There are consequences to every action,” Brenna stepped out onto the bath mat, wrapping the towel around her, “I dread that cold hallway.”  
“Just take a deep breath and run,” Sophie stood up, “I'll be right behind you.”  
Brenna gathered the towel tighter around her, opened the door and they both ran screaming into her bedroom.

Brenna zipped up the duffel bag Sophie had loaned her, glancing every so often at the TV where the Good Morning America logo was streaming across the screen.   
“Oh goody, another call for tighter mutant regulations,” Sophie mumbled from her place stomach down on the bed.  
“If you thought they were going to loosen them, you fool yourself.”  
“This keeps up I'm coming to Asgard and live with you. At least there they would accept me.”  
“You would come live in Asgard?” Brenna leaned over to lay on her shoulder, “Honestly?”  
“No,” Sophie clucked her tongue, “Honey, I love ya and Asgard is a nice place to visit but I wouldn't last very long without the internet and my TV shows. I'm sorry.”  
“I ken. You are hardly the only one to eschew Midgardian life,” Brenna rubbed her back before she stood up from the bed.  
“You ready?”  
“Yes I think so,” Brenna shouldered the duffel bag.  
“Okay, don't leave that bag there. It's been with me since I started school at the mansion.”  
“I won't,” Brenna bent down, giving Sophie a hug, “Do you want to come downstairs with me, play lookout?”  
“You know your leaving just depresses me. You're going to be in the back yard, pick that corner over by the old swing set, it's pretty enclosed there. No one's going to notice and who gives a shit if they do? Just hurry back will you?”  
“I will. I should return the day after tomorrow.”  
“K, love you. Be safe.”  
Brenna smiled, “Always, my friend.”  
Sophie listened to the apartment door click shut, thinking to go lock it behind her, lacking the energy as she lay there watching the local weather forecast.  
“Oh goody, snow again,” she grumbled, “Just what we needed for the tenth time this month.”  
At the knock on the apartment door, Sophie sat up, leaning over to peer through the bedroom doorway at the front door.  
“Brenna is that you?”  
The knock sounded again and Sophie hopped off the bed, tiptoeing to the door, keeping her eye on the bat she kept off to the side.   
“Who is it?”  
There came a muffled reply in a familiar femae voice, “We're with the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division, Miss Williams. We'd like to talk to you.”  
Sophie picked up the bat and slid it behind her back as she cracked the door open. In the hallway stood a man and a woman dressed in suits, their eyes hidden behind dark glasses. Sophie threw the door wide open, “Lily!”  
Lily removed her sunglasses, giving Sophie a thin smile, “Yeah, sorry to bust in so early on a Saturday morning. Is Brenna inside?”  
“I'm afraid you just missed her. How in the heck do you guys always know where she is?”  
“It's our job, Ma'am,” the man beside Lily replied in a deep baritone.  
“This is an urgent matter, Sophie. Where did she go?” Lily gazed into the apartment.  
“Home to fetch Chase. They'll be back day after tomorrow.”  
Lily looked at the band on her wrist, “I have to make a call. Can we come inside?”  
“Sure, is something wrong?”  
Lily nodded as they sidled past Sophie into the apartment, “We've lost all contact with Asgard.”

 

He was hungry and cold. This coupled with Lelia's outright refusal to return to her family farm was making him angrier than he thought possible.   
“You've seen the city. It's under siege, guarded by those blue giants.”  
“They be Jotunns, and ye said we were going to steal into the city under cover of darkness. Now, ye've turned tail.”  
“We won't get through, goddamnit!” he cried, immediately lowering his voice as he scanned the woods around them, “You saw the gates. No one is getting in or out. We've got to get help.”  
“And what if me Da isn't at home? What if he left to defend the city? What then?”  
Simon picked his steps carefully through the snow, stumbling, regaining his balance, “I don't know, Lelia but I'm certain if we stay out here in the cold for another night, we're going to die from exposure and exhaustion so if you have another idea, I'd very much like to hear it!”  
“Why do we not return to the longhouses?”  
Simon slowed, leaned against the trunk of a large oak, closing his eyes. He knew it was the next logical step. Stark was no doubt calling reinforcements from Earth to help the Asgardians. He had to be. They'd be safer there than anywhere but they also might confine him to his tent. They very well could arrest him considering who he was ultimately employed by. Did requesting asylum qualify as committing treason? Simon looked at Lelia, her bright red cheeks, her cloak wrapped tight around her shoulders, green eyes hopeful.  
“You don't want to go home for the same reason I don't really want to go to the longhouses but there it is. We'll be safer surrounded by agents with tasers and rubber bullets than in a farmhouse with nothing for defense but scythes and arrows.”  
Lelia shot him a smug smile, “I knew ye were after seeing the wisdom of me advice.”  
Simon shook his head, readjusted his backpack and they continued on toward the main road.

 

Brenna stood at the beginning of the lane, staring in shock at the manor house, her mind unwilling to process what her eyes were seeing. The front door and its frame were gone, smashed inward, a gaping mouth with a couple large stones from the outer wall strewn across the front steps like badly worn teeth. The foyer was open to the elements and snow had infiltrated the interior in low piles. She took one jerky step forward, then another until she was slogging through the deep snow at the edge of the icy runner ruts, terror stopping her at the broken stones as she peered inside. When her eyes adjusted to the light, she let out a high pitched screech. Extending out from one of the drifts which had begun to creep up the wall beside the stairs was an arm and part of a leg.  
She dropped to her knees in the snow, digging away at it with trembling hands until Hal's pale face began to emerge and she fell, skittering backward from the impossible scene.  
“No, gods no!”  
A gust of wind buffeted her hair as she struggled to her feet, calling out names, praying for and at the same time fearing an answer.  
“Mama! Papa! Where are you? Fen?! Astrid? Brynn! Cait! Helgi? Ingrid!” She raced up the stairs, throwing wide the doors of each bedchamber until she reached her parents room.  
“Please do not be inside. Please, please,” she whispered as she grabbed the handle.   
The bedchamber was empty, cold as a tomb. Her mother's robe lay spread across the end of the bed ready for when she retired for the evening. Brenna stepped inside, looking about. The logs in the fireplace were dead coals, the wash basin lay in several pieces on the stand beside the wardrobe, the water inside frozen until it had cracked the delicate porcelain.  
Brenna backed out of the room and rushed downstairs, averting her eyes from Hal's lifeless face, her tongue sealed to the roof of her mouth as she moved silently into the library, then to the sitting room, dining hall, finally the kitchen, searching everywhere, even the cold cellar. What had happened? Where were her parents? Her brothers and sisters? Helgi? She stood in the kitchen, a thousand horrible thoughts running through her head. Did Papa even know? Was he at the palace for an extended stay. Was this the work of the Dokkalfar? Or something a hundred times worse?   
_“The Chitauri,”_ a voice whispered in her head though she quickly shrugged it off, picking up the Uruz.  
The words _“The palace, Asgard”_ were at the tip of her tongue when she paused.   
“I cannot appear at the palace without knowing what is wrong. What if....,” she closed her eyes, shook her head, “Brenna, shut it, just shut it.”  
All at once, she was running through the sitting room, the foyer, out into the snow toward the stables, hoping the horses were still in their stalls, safe, ready to ride.  
Moments later she stood at the stable door staring at the empty stalls, the open space where the wagon should have been. This gave her some odd measure of relief. Perhaps they had escaped whatever had attacked the manor. They had to have left the manor in a mad rush. They wouldn't have left poor Hal unattended were the situation not dire. She wrapped her arms about herself, thinking upon what to do next when a bit of chaff floated down in front of her eyes. She whirled about to stare up into the loft, wishing she had thought to strap on her dagger that morning before she left Midgard.   
“Who is up there? Show yourself! Mama, is it you?” she scanned the stable for anything she might use as a weapon, “Papa?”  
There was a shuffling sound overhead and she half expected to see a large rat scurry along the ledge but a pair of hands appeared followed by Eldred's hooded face.  
“Milady!”  
Before she could respond he was sliding down the loft ladder and running toward her. He dropped down at her feet, pressing his forehead against her boots.  
“Forgive me, forgive me! I could do nothing to help them!”  
“Eldred,” Brenna stumbled backward in an effort to extract herself from his grasp, “Help who? What happened? Who did this?”  
“I would be no match. I am a simple stable hand!” he cried, screeching as Brenna bent down and grabbed him by the shoulders, “Forgive me!”  
“Odin's beard, what happened? Stop your mewling and tell me!” Brenna shook him, “Who did this to my home? My family?”  
“They came without warning.”  
“Who?”  
Eldred scanned the stable as if even uttering their names would cause them to reappear, “The Jotunns. The ice giants from Jotunheim.”  
Brenna sat back on the stable floor. Her mouth felt dry, her response a feeble rasp, “What?”  
“They broke the door in and were soon seen taking everyone from the manor in the wagon. Your mother was crying, wailing to the heavens. So frightened was I that they would take me as well that I hid in the loft. Gretten came to fetch the wagon and still I stayed hidden. I am a coward! A weakling and a coward!”  
“Stop it!” Brenna scrambled to her knees, “Did you hear nothing they said?”  
“What I could hear was in Jotunn and I do not know their language.”  
Brenna rose to her feet, looked out the stable door to the manor, “Which way did they go?”  
“Toward Asgard,” Eldred pointed with a shaking finger, “And there were fires off to the northeast. I could see the smoke. Perhaps there are more Jotunns than those I saw?”  
Brenna closed her eyes. Northeast from here sat the longhouses and the encampment...and Chase.   
“I am going to return to the house for my father's crossbow and then I am going to the longhouses.”  
“But...but what of your family, Milady?” Eldred called as she strode from the stable.  
“My path will take me to Asgard but I cannot go alone into what I do not know. The Midgardians are my best hope to that end.”  
“Wait!” Eldred ran until he was even with her, “I will go with you. I am only a stable hand but do not doubt I know how to wield sword and dagger.”  
Brenna hesitated, shook her head, “No, I need you here. The front of the house must be blocked up until we can repair it properly and someone must care for Hal's remains...”  
“Hal? He is dead?” Eldred stared at the manor in the distance, “He was kind to me in all things. I would call down a thousand curses upon those...!”  
“...and we cannot leave the livestock to starve in the barn. It is your job to care for them as well. Do stay here and tend to the manor and you will have served the family far better than if you were to accompany me.”  
Eldred scratched his shaggy head, “But it is not safe on the road. A woman alone? What if you were taken?”  
Brenna patted him on the shoulder, “I too am able to defend myself. My father taught me well how to shoot. Stay here and prepare for our return. It is my request.”  
“Then it is my duty,” Eldred clasped his hands together and bowed deep, “The gods keep you safe.”  
“The gods keep us all safe,” she murmured starting for the manor again.


	84. 84

Eris paced about the fire pit in her little shelter, listening to the voices of the Jotunns in high spirits outside though she understood not a single word they said. Sulyir had come to see her at one point, telling her Loki had been sequestered with Menyir for quite some time, reassuring her she would soon be brought to him. At the thought of facing the man she'd desired for so long, her stomach clenched violently. She'd been so very wrong but the situation was now out of her control. She doubted they would just let her walk away knowing what power she possessed, not to mention her scant knowledge of the portals and the ability to identify Simon Foster when they found him. No, she was a prisoner as surely as if she'd been captured right along with the city itself.  
When the door to the shelter opened again, she fought the urge to disappear, to run away as she had so many times in the past, instead she stood there staring at Sulyir's extended hand, “Come, you are to be presented to the prince.”

 

They stopped before the large shelter. At either side of the entrance stood sentries. One of them regarded Eris and Sulyir with a smirk though he said nothing.   
Eris chewed her lip, “So your people dragged all these stones with them to build the shelters? That's dedication.”  
“No,” Sulyir opened his hand over the ground, “We can manipulate stones, boulders, pebbles.”  
Through the frozen slush at their feet, a small rock emerged, floating up to his palm where it hovered as if waiting for its instructions.  
“Oh wow. You could get a great job on Earth. You could go into construction, or masonry...” her voice dwindled until they both stood staring at the shelter.  
“You could run, you know,” Sulyir murmured, “I would help you.”  
Eris gave him a smile, quickly looked away, “I think they're bent on keeping me for a while besides,” she gestured at the shelter door, “I'm supposed to get everything I want now aren't I?”  
Sulyir was about to reply when one of the sentries grumbled, “You have done your chore. Away with you, grunt.”  
Sulyir glanced at her once more then with a bow, he was gone. She heard the door slide open while she watched Sulyir walk away.  
“You may enter, Midgardian,” The sentry nodded at the dark doorway.

 

The interior was bathed in an iridescent blue light. As her eyes adjusted, she spied, in the center of the shelter, on the ground, a round iron grate. Inside it was a stone shaped into a sphere and it was giving off a phosphorescent blue glow which seemed to be absorbed and reflected back by the walls of the shelter. The effect would have been lovely had she not been terrified. All at once a high pitched whine filled the air. Eris moved further into the shelter, skirting the iron grate until she saw him.  
He was sitting on a long low bed, muttering to himself, hands laced over his bowed head, a long fur robe covering his shoulders. His disheveled, long hair hid his face but she could clearly see he was in distress. Did he even know she was there? She edged closer, her hand out, ready to touch his shoulder, was inches away when his head came up and he took her wrist in a grip like iron. She shrieked, trying to yank her hand free as he rose from the bed, screaming at her in that strange language she'd been listening to for days.  
“I...I c..an't under...stand you!” she gasped, “Please, I...I..”  
He let her wrist go so abruptly that she had all she could do to keep her feet, stumbling backward across the uneven dirt floor.  
“I don't speak your language, I'm sorry, I...”  
The back of his hand connected so hard with her jaw that she spun about, landing hard on her hands and knees beside the iron grate. Her stomach twisted, the taste of blood filling her mouth and for one frightening moment, she was sure she was going to vomit. She'd cut the inside of her lip on a tooth, could feel the sharp sting as her tongue probed the spot but she had no time to consider it before she was being yanked up to her knees by her hair.  
“You speak by my will alone, Midgardian,” came a low growl in her ear.  
She swallowed the scream that had worked its way to the surface, “I'm...I'm...,”  
Her cheek met the ground with bone jarring force and the interior of the shelter faded beneath a curtain of gray......

“.....again! Do you ken?!”  
She opened her eyes. She hadn't been out long, couldn't have been. He was still crouched down, screaming at her while she stared directly at his crotch. She resisted the urge to reach out and dig her fingernails into his scrotum even though she was sure it would have the effect she was looking for. He was no different than any other John she'd sent packing holding his junk in his hand when he'd gotten a little too rough for the price he'd paid but she had other plans. She was more than frightened now, she was angry. All he had to do was let go of her and they were going to play a little game.  
“Now to your feet and hold your tongue or I shall hold it for you!”  
As soon as his hand left her cheek she was already scrambling backwards, fading away. She struggled to her knees, stifling a laugh when he let out a roar.  
“How dare you play me! Cease your sorcery at once!” He pawed the air, twisting about, searching for her. If he connected with her again, she doubted she would come out of it so easily as she had the last time. She was going to have to talk him down first.   
_“he's just a John. That's all. Just another customer..”_ she chanted in her head, circling him, taking note that he towered head and shoulders over her.   
“I'd like to see you try it,” she called out stepping to her right, barely avoiding his side swipe at the air. She had a chance to study him more closely now that he was preoccupied. He'd tossed the fur robe to the side at the beginning of his assault and now she saw he'd changed from his tunic and breeches to a belted breech cloth which hung in a front drape reaching nearly to his ankles. His old tunic had been replaced by a lower cut, elaborately decorated leather vest open at the chest. Watching him paw at the air she frowned. He was still as beautiful as he'd been the first day she'd laid eyes on him, the turquoise blue coloring and the markings on his skin only serving to accentuate his fine features, lending him an exotic mien.  
“Show yourself, whore or I shall call the sentries!”  
“Why,” she whispered in his ear, “They can't see me either, dumbass.”  
“ERRAHHH!” he pivoted about, her laughter ringing in his ears, “Stop this at once!”  
She put the iron grate between them, “And give you a chance to bust my jaw? Fuck you. I'd like a little respect after all I've done for your buddies.”  
“Respect,” came a voice from behind her and she had a fraction of a second to react, stumbling forward, kicking one of the grate legs with her toes as she fell forward, her head spinning from the sharp pain that traveled up her foot to her ankle. Where the hell had he come from? She'd been looking right at him.  
“Filthy Midgardian,” he spat, striding toward her so fast she had to crawl out of his way, aware she was making her location obvious when his head turned in her direction, a wicked grin growing upon his face. The tricky fucker! She obviously wasn't the only mutant in the neighborhood anymore. She had to get up, had to stop making so much noise, had to keep an eye on him. She'd grown a bit too cocky.   
“This filthy Midgardian holds the secret to reconstructing the portals so your people can go wherever you wish,” she spat at him, ever on the move lest he locate her again, “And furthermore, this filthy Midgardian managed to steal that casket which is going to give you and your brothers control of Asgard.”  
He stopped in his tracks then, crouching down to the ground with a groan, hands at his temples, muttering again to himself. She could only surmise the transformation wasn't agreeing with him. So much for the wonder of magic. Nothing was perfect it seemed, not even in Asgard.  
“Headache?” she called across the room.  
“Silence!” he roared, squeezing his eyes shut, “Gods, will it not stop?”  
She drew near him, keeping safely out of reach, or so she thought, “Talk about karma. That's what you get for being an asshole.”  
He was on his feet this time too quick for her to move, his hand clutching at the air, catching the edge of her cloak. She wrenched free the button at her neck, letting the cloak slide from her shoulders as she backed away from him.  
He held up the cloak with a chuckle, dangling it in the air mere inches before her nose, “I do not feel the cold. However, you do. How long will it be before you succumb to winter's endless sleep? Show yourself and I swear I shall return your cape to you.”  
“I'm just getting warmed up, dancing around with you. Besides...,” _Play the game, he's just a John,”_ “This is no way to treat your savior,” she edged closer to him once more, “You wouldn't be here if it weren't for me.”  
“I concur, you have delivered the casket to us,” came his reply, a silken growl.  
“Then shouldn't I be rewarded for it?” closer....  
“My brother claims you agreed to steal the casket in return for my attentions.”  
Closer still....”And much more. I'm finished with being a barmaid, a dancer, a hooker. I want to be someone. I want wealth, I want luxury.”  
Steeling herself, she looked up into his eyes, dark crimson in the blue light of the shelter, reaching for the waistband of his breech cloth, sliding her fingers down the front of the rough fabric to cup him in her hand as she let her form reappear“And I want a man like you. Is that too much to ask for all I've done?”  
He grabbed her wrist though not so tightly as he had before, his grip loosening slightly when she parted the fabric, searching for skin. _Yep, all men, all of them the same in the end_. She smiled up at him, feeling better in control of the situation as he closed his eyes, lips parted, the cloak slipping from his fingers to the ground at their feet.   
“...and all I can do for you in the future in return for....uunnhh!” she landed half on the bed, wincing at the hard surface beneath the soft furs, all thoughts of comfort immediately wiped from her mind while he lifted her further onto the robes, his free hand untying the belt at his waist.  
“If you have come in search of this,” he rasped, shoving the skirt of her dress up her legs planting a knee between them, “You have found what you desire, Midgardian.”  
“Eris...shit!” she grunted as he fell atop her, his hand searching, probing at the cleft between her legs until at last he moved forward, sliding into her in one fluid motion. She was unprepared for the intrusion and her breath caught in her throat when he began to move, lifting her from the bed with each thrust, one hand at her hip, the other holding himself above her, his face expressionless, even curious as he fixed her with an unnerving stare until his breathing quickened. He craned his head upward, eyes closed, a low growl a rumble in his chest, growing louder and deeper until at last he shuddered, pulling from her with a jerk to spend himself across her skirt, backing away from her as quickly as he'd taken her.  
“The heir to the throne of Jotunheim will not be borne by a weak Midgardian woman,” he lifted his breech cloth from the floor re-fastening it about his waist, gesturing to her as he headed for the shelter door, “Clean yourself. I will return.”  
She lay there staring up at the uneven stone ceiling. The coupling had taken maybe five minutes at the most, the whole affair disturbingly sterile. Some of her paying customers had given her longer rides with more warmth, more concern for her pleasure. It wasn't that she hadn't been used before, had in fact been used plenty. But she'd wanted more this time and she felt cheated, worse, she felt nothing. No that wasn't right, she felt remorse, could hear Sulyir's voice in her head.  
_“His primary weakness is his family. He is well known to be devoted entirely to his wife and children. He would give his life for them. Therein is where we have him.”_  
She'd torn him from his family, remade him into a monster, stripped him of all that she'd desired, his capacity to love, to care, to feel.  
And now she was trapped.

 

Sulyir had remained outside the shelter for some time, listening to the exchange within, seething with jealousy, anger. He wanted nothing more than to rush inside and tear her away from Loki, run far from Asgard, perhaps to Muspelheim, where they could perhaps prey upon the good graces of his brethren from the east to grant them shelter. She would no more have need to sell herself, tend to the desires of other men. He would care for her. When Loki finally emerged, alone, from the shelter, heading for Menyir's shelter, his gaze slid over Sulyir, summarily dismissing him. Sulyir regarded the sentries who stood gazing out over the encampment and was certain there was little chance of gaining entry thus he retreated to his own shelter where he would wait for opportunity to present itself.

 

  
_Assignment: 64379-01  
Location: Asgard _

_Agent: Colin M. Denehy  
Date: 1/14/30 _

_An unnerving silence has descended throughout the palace, in fact through the whole city. As I stood on the parapets earlier, I saw people moving about, hurrying from place to place, their cloaks tight over their shoulders, even the children make not a sound, they seem to know our situation is dire.  
Eidra was put to bed in Loki's old bedchamber and there she remains, inconsolable, curled up into a ball beneath the covers. Helgi is always there with her, joined often by Stark and Chase, Beth, Gretten, everyone seems lost, wandering about in a sort of limbo, just waiting for the next catastrophe. The youngest children have been sequestered with the nursemaid Bruna or Frigga and her companion, Tamarin. Fen is off with Gunnar and Silas at the guard's barracks, he absolutely refuses to admit defeat, is frightening in his denial in fact.  
Eidra, however, has surrendered, her heart broken when she saw Loki transformed. Upon one visit, I sat down on the bed beside her and was able to coax her into some small interaction.  
“It was long rumored my husband was of the Jotunn race, I am no fool as everyone would believe,” she murmured, barely above a whisper, “But it mattered not to me. I was profoundly content to be his wife, to raise our children, to bask in the light of his love and adoration. Nay, my heart is broken not because I now know the truth but because I have lost him, he no longer knows me. Many were the times I wondered how he must have felt when I did not know him on Tir Na Nog, how painful it must have been to look into the face of one whom he had so loved and see fear, confusion, hatred. Had I but known such curiosity would be a curse, that I would be privy to such agony, gods..... I cannot bear the pain of living without my heart.”  
More than anything, seeing such a strong woman brought so low fills me with an all consuming desire to eradicate the whole fucking lot of those blue bastards outside the city walls but I can't, I'm powerless, just as useless as the day I arrived. All I'm good for is to shout obscenities over the walls, shoot a few arrows and what happens when they come back to ask us for Simon again and we can't or won't produce him? We freeze to death? Most likely, seeing as we won't get help from Earth anytime soon. Stark has told me repeatedly in the past not even to consider calling up the armed forces until there's no longer any choice so we sit and wait while Eidra and her family remain divided, torn apart. It seems Chris's prediction was right,. At this time, Stark is talking with Thor and the High Council, about what I haven't a clue. I've never felt more helpless in my whole life._


	85. 85

At least half a dozen times, Brenna lifted the Uruz out of her sweater, only to drop it back inside. By far the only downside to the power of the Uruz was never knowing what one might find on the other side. If only one of the horses had been left in the stable, she wouldn't now be left to slog through the snow along the side of the road, wasting precious time. When at last she reached the crossroads it was past the noon hour. She'd expected to come home and raid the pantry for some of Gretten's biscuits or Beth's cookies but the shock of finding the manor in such a state had driven all thoughts of food from her mind. Now, however, she was starving, cold, and exhausted, the thought of those yeasty sweet biscuits sound like a gift from the gods. She started off down the access road to her right, barely giving a nearby small cottage a second glance.   
When she first set out for the encampment, every farm, every hovel or cottage she'd passed had looked deserted. She'd chanced a stop at the farm of the Widow Brunhild a rod north of the manor , dismayed to find the small cottage empty as well, things tossed about the common room as if Brunhild had left in a hurry. There was little in the nine realms that would unseat the Widow from her precious farm. Had she perhaps joined the influx of people from the other cottages, farms to the city or further into the countryside? She could at least hope this was the case, any other explanation was impossible to fathom.  
At a bend in the road, she stopped, looking through the trees at the encampment. The angle always afforded her a decent view of Longhouse one and the main gate, especially helpful when she was desperate to avoid her father but what she now saw made her stumble forward to lean against a tree, all discomfort forgotten. Longhouse one was a burnt out shell, its roof open to the sky, timbers smoking. The tent city was decimated, the ground a vast swath of muddy burlap, tent stakes, poles standing naked in the snow. Longhouse two was largely untouched though the side door looked to have been rammed inward but all the destruction was secondary to the activity around the exterior. A line of heavily armed Jotunn stood watching technicians, agents, carry boxes and computer equipment into Longhouse two, presumably from the remnants of Longhouse one. She made her way through the trees, closer and closer until she reached the tree line to hide behind a short ragged fir tree, looking for Chase, praying to the gods he was there safe among the remaining agents but the longer she watched, the more despondent she became. Where was Mister Stark? Agent Kenworth? What had happened?

 

“Simon, are ye daft? If we stay here, we're caught for sure!” Lelia whispered, tugging at the sleeve of his tunic but Simon was rooted to the spot. The camp was devastated, the tents collapsed like scattered dominoes row upon row. Longhouse one was destroyed, its ceiling open to the sky. He could just make out the blackened slope of the portal ramp among the charred timbers, the cubes were nowhere to be seen. Agents, technicians, whoever had survived the initial onslaught had been pressed into service while the Jotunns stood sentry, watching them as they transfered equipment into Longhouse two.   
“What are they doing?”  
Simon shrugged, felt the weight of his backpack and was grateful he'd taken his personal effects along with him on his trek, “They can't possibly know what the portals are for, can they? I mean why would they have our agents moving equipment to Longhouse two?”  
“I've not the slightest notion. Do ye think we should check in on me Ma and Da?”  
“And now you're finally worried?”  
He winced at the hard punch delivered to his arm, “Simon Foster, how can ye be so callous? I never said I wasn't afraid fer me family. I said they could well take care of themselves..”  
He waved at Lelia, “Keep your voice down for god's sake. Listen, I think it's a great idea, I'm pretty sure we're not going to get near the...”  
A roar from one of the Jotunns made them drop into a crouch behind the fallen tree they'd been leaning on. They peeked over the top to see one Jotunn standing over a fellow warrior, pointing at him, yelling in a strange tongue.  
“...near the palace or the encampment,” Simon finished, “We might as well go to the farm...,”  
“If they've not taken to the shelter.”   
“Be that as it may either shelter or farmhouse, at the very least they might know what happened.”   
Together they began to work their way down the length of the tree to a nearby overgrowth of brush but before they could reach the safety of the ground cover, Lelia stopped.  
“What...” Simon began but Lelia held up her hand to silence him, tilting her head to a copse of trees near the main gate.  
There was someone hiding behind one of the large oaks, watching the encampment just as they had been. Simon stared hard, trying to focus. Whoever it was wasn't dressed like an Asgardian, rather the person wore a blue parka, dark green sweater and black pants. Had someone escaped from the encampment?  
Simon started to rise but Lelia grabbed his hand, “Yer mad. Who is it now? Tell me this.”  
“I'll know when I reach them, won't I?”  
“Simon!” Lelia hissed as he moved off in the direction of the stranger, “Odin's beard, stay low!”

 

By the time Brenna noticed movement in her field of vision, she knew it would be far too late to run, especially in the deep snow. She cursed herself for not paying better attention to her surroundings as she fumbled with numb fingers for the dagger fastened to her leg, thanking the gods she'd strapped it on before she set out from the manor. She twisted around, the dagger held blade out along her wrist as her father had taught her, ready to fight her way free but what she saw made her nearly lose her grip.   
Scurrying toward her was a bearded humpbacked man, his features hidden beneath the hood of a heavy cloak, hurrying along behind him was a young woman, her red hair braided and coiled atop her head. As they drew closer, Brenna lowered her dagger. She knew the woman, had seen her on a few occasions while she was out walking the property lines with her father. The manor's land was adjacent to theirs. What was her name?

 

The closer they came to the stranger, Simon saw he was wrong. The stranger was a girl. No, a young woman, a woman whose face he'd seen before.  
“Simon,” Lelia hissed, “Wait. Slow down!”  
But Simon kept slogging through the snow, throwing his hood back from his face for better visibility......

 

Brenna slid her dagger into the holster on her thigh, sure she was starting to hallucinate for the man struggling to reach her couldn't possibly be....  
“Simon Foster?” she whispered at first to herself, then a bit louder, “Simon?”

 

Simon stopped before her, grinning, out of breath, “Good lord....Brenna? What are you... doing here?”  
In lieu of a reply, Brenna enfolded him into a tight hug, “Oh thank the gods! I thought everyone I knew had disappeared.”  
“Oookay,” Simon patted her gingerly on the back, “It's lovely to see you too but I think we should get out of earshot before we're found out. Lelia and I...”  
“That is it!” Brenna cried, letting go of Simon, “Vargas is your father!”  
“That he is, Milady,” Lelia gave her an awkward curtsey, “Have ye seen him? Where is he?”  
“I had seen no one until I reached the encampment. The countryside seems to have been evacuated....”  
“Hush, the both of you!” Simon tilted his head toward the encampment where two of the Jotunn warriors were staring in the direction of the tree line.  
“Do ye think they heard us?” Lelia whispered.  
At a wave to his fellow Jotunn the two warriors started in their direction.  
“We have to get out of here,” Simon gestured toward the women, “Deeper into the brush,”  
“Where are we going to go?” Lelia took his hand as they began to skirt the tree line away from the encampment.  
“We're going to find shelter and food before we die of exposure now say no more.”  
They hurried through the snow as best they could, spurred on by the sound of crackling tree branches and the thunder of heavy footfalls.

 

Brenna pushed open the door to the little cottage, “Hello? Is anyone here?”  
When there came no answer, she gestured them inside, “Do you see? I declare everyone has fled the realm.”  
“Perhaps they haven't exactly run off. Maybe they were rounded up by the Jotunns,”   
When Simon drew off his cloak and unshouldered his backpack, Brenna giggled.  
“Oh I wondered how you had acquired a hump on your back. I am sorry.”  
“Mmm? Oh no, I just wanted to keep the pack undercover,” he reached down to pat it, “I'm carrying precious cargo.”  
Brenna regarded the pack curiously while Simon began to set some logs from the box beside the hearth onto the cold fireplace grate, “Precious cargo?”  
“Yes, and I need to....uhn...get it to the palace but that's going to be next to impossible.”  
Brenna drew out a chair from a long table which had been shoved to the side along one wall of the cottage and sat down while Lelia began to explore the shelves beside the hearth.  
“Impossible is quite an understatement,” Brenna breathed, “Odin's beard.”  
“Aye, the Jotunn have laid siege to the city,” Lelia picked up a heavy crock and set it down on the floor, “We dared not get too close lest they catch us but from what we could see, there looked to have been a horrible battle, scores of guards covered the fields, frozen, up against the main gates, poor things.”  
“Lelia,” Simon grunted, “You're being a tad indelicate.”  
Lelia looked up at Brenna's stricken face, “Oh please fergive me, Milady. I ferget meself.”  
“No, go on, “ Brenna shook her head, “I must know what we are up against however painful it might be to hear.”  
Lelia pried off the lid of the crock, “Aye, well, standing with the guards were common folk, pitchforks and scythes, sword, bow, crossbow in their hands..that's where the people have gotten to. They joined in the fight to defend Asgard, more's the pity.”  
Brenna regarded her own crossbow, dangling from her duffel bag, “Poor match for ice giants.”  
“Too true....ah, look! Dried apples! And up there in the cloth, sure and it's a loaf of bread!” Lelia stood up, moving parcels and packages out of the way, “If we can find a bit of cured ham, we've a meal.”  
“I'm not very hungry,” Brenna put her head down on the table.  
“Well you have to have something,” Simon called to her , moving the logs around the grate with a long hook, encouraging the air to circulate, feed the growing flame, “You can't go without eating.”  
“Would you be able to eat were it your family that had gone missing?”  
Simon stopped, sat back on his heels, “What do you mean. Missing?”  
As Lelia brought the crock and the loaf of bread to the table and started to divide them evenly, Brenna told them of her arrival at the manor, finding the front door broken in, her father's manservant dead and Eldred hiding in the empty stables where he'd informed her that her family had been led away by a group of Jotunn warriors.  
“But how did the Jotunns manage to reach Asgard?” Brenna picked up a slice of bread, sniffed it, “They are forbidden to use the bridge and I have possession of the Uruz,” she patted her chest, feeling the comforting shape of the disc beneath her sweater.  
“I believe they came through the portals,” Simon joined them at the table, “I've no idea how but it's the only explanation I can come up with and judging by what we saw at the encampment, I think I'm right.”  
“It does not make sense. My father said the portals cannot work like the bridge. Someone with the ability to control the portals would have had to help them.”  
“Quite the mystery,” Simon popped a dried slice of apple into his mouth, “One that I hope we can solve if we reach the palace but the problem remains, how to get inside?”  
“What is it you have in your back pack that is so dear?” Brenna nodded toward the pack beside the cottage door.  
Beaming, Simon fetched the pack and set it on the table before them where he opened the flap. Bright light illuminated the interior of the pack, bursting forth to bath the cottage walls in hues of green and gold. He reached inside, pulling out first the ship's prism, then the chalice and setting them on the table, “I am bringing the rune elementals back to Asgard. I've had to bury them deep in my pack or their light would be like a beacon over our heads.”  
Brenna reached out to stroke the smooth glass of the prism, “I knew it was special when I repaired it, I could feel its energy but never did I believe it was a relic of Asgard. Oh my!”  
“And the chalice. Velos had it. He returned with us to Asgard but when he saw the devastation he headed back to Muspelheim to bring his own people to our aid, with any luck,”  
“Milady, look!” Lelia cried, pointing at Brenna, “Inside yer tunic!”  
Brenna glanced down at her sweater, at the bright white circle glowing through the fabric, pulled the Uruz out and held it, dangling over the prism and the chalice, watching their light mingle, intensify until it was almost too much to look at directly. She shielded her eyes, letting the necklace drop to her chest again.  
“By the gods, my necklace is a rune elemental?”  
“It must be, oh look!” Lelia clapped her hands.  
A shimmering haze had enveloped the three runes, pulsing, extending tendrils outward to Simon, caressing his hands like a lover.  
“D' ye see that now?” Lelia gestured at him, adopting a proud mien, “Simon is descended from Melos. It was his destiny to gather the runes together when they were needed again.”  
“Melos. I have not heard that name since I was a child on Helgi's lap,” Brenna smiled though it quickly faded as she thought again of her family, “She told me the legend of Volundr and his companions, how they retrieved the runes and scattered them across the realms to keep them safe but I did not know they had reached Midgard.”  
“It was as much of a shock to me as it is to you, trust me. I set off on this insane trek without a clue what I was supposed to do and I'm still clueless? I was headed to the palace with the runes because it was the only place I could think of to bring them. I don't know if I'm doing the right thing or not, I'm just following my gut.”  
Brenna slipped the Uruz back inside her sweater, “Perhaps you are doing what the runes wish you to do. Sometime we have to let fate guide us.”  
“I've been doing that for weeks,” Simon sat back in the chair, rubbing his eyes, “but unless fate knows how to get us inside that palace, we've reached an impasse.”  
Brenna tapped the still glowing shape of the Uruz, “We most definitely have not. All I need to do is open a portal and step through.”  
“But what if ye open this portal and ye come face to face with a legion of Jotunns?” Lelia shook her head, “Ye'll be done fer certain.”  
“I will simply close it,” Brenna mimed twisting her thumb and forefinger in the air, “They will not be able to follow us. I promise I will make every effort to place us where we might be the safest.”  
“I think any semblance of safety has disappeared,” Simon grunted, standing from the table.  
“Nevertheless, we must try. I need to find my family, my father and mother, brothers, sisters. They must be inside the city. Of course If you do not wish to come with me, it is your choice.”  
“I never said we weren't coming with you, I said it wasn't going to be easy,” Simon held out his hand to Lelia, “Now we should rest until nightfall. It'll be better to travel under cover of darkness.”  
Upon searching the cottage, they found a trunk half full of blankets, spreading them out on the floor before the fireplace. Soon enough, Brenna alone was awake, listening to Simon mumbling in his sleep about someone named Harmand. Whether or not Lelia had joined him in slumber, she couldn't be sure. She lay there on the hard stone floor sending silent prayers to the gods that she would find everyone safe and sound behind the palace walls.


	86. 86

“Wait here,” Hobnir shot Loki a condescending look as he knocked on the door to Menyir's shelter.  
“What is it?”   
Hobnir flinched at the sharp response, “My King, Your brother desires an audience with you.”  
The door swung inward and Menyir appeared, his hand outstretched, “You need not announce my brother, he is always welcome, you dolt!”  
“Forgive me for disturbing you,” Loki bowed deeply, letting himself be ushered inside.  
“Not at all. I was expecting your visit,” Menyir gestured to a couple of stools arranged about the central grate, “Sit, tell me what troubles you.”  
“I am confused, your Majesty....,” Loki glanced about the well appointed shelter, “My head reels with images I cannot comprehend.”  
Menyir sat down in one of the heavy stone chairs which flanked a round marble slab table, “Please. We are equals. Call me brother, I will have nothing less.”  
He groaned aloud, pressed his palms to his temples as if by doing so he could suppress the image which the word “brother” called to mind.  
“What is it?”  
“I am plagued by the faces of my enemy. The King of Asgard, the woman and her children in the Great Hall, the tall Midgardian, the old Queen,” he bent forward, closed his eyes, “I try to think of Jotunheim, the fortress, the Palladium mountains, the Caverns of Light but I cannot see them up here,” he tapped his head with a finger, balling his hand into a fist.  
“The enchantment Odin held over you was strong. These images will fade with time. Have you eaten yet this evening?”  
He forced himself to stand upright, gagging on the word, “brother” once more, “I have not.”  
When Menyir clapped his hands, the door to the shelter opened and Hobnir poked his head inside, “You summoned me, My King?”  
“Yes, fetch us something to eat. The prince is hungry. ”  
Hobnir bowed, turned to leave but Loki shook his head, “I have not the stomach for food. I wish to return to Jotunheim as soon as I am able.”  
Menyir leaned forward in the chair, “We cannot go home without the Midgardian Simon Foster. When the Asgardians are at last faced with their own demise, they will give him up then you shall be free to return to the realm of your birth.”  
Hobnir slipped inside the shelter with a stone bowl, handing it to Menyir who offered it to Loki. He sniffed at the contents, turned his head away, repulsed at the sour earthy aroma of the pale green spongy clumps piled high over the rim.  
“Of course. You were not raised upon our foodstuffs. This too shall pass,” Menyir lifted a morsel from the bowl, offering it to him, as if to a recalcitrant child “I implore you, do try it.”  
“I cannot. Not yet,” Loki retreated from Menyir's outstretched hand.  
Menyir shrugged, popping the pale green sponge into his mouth, “When you are hungry enough, you shall be more tractable. Tell me, what do you think of your Midgardian prize?”  
For a moment, Loki was lost until Menyir chuckled, “The woman, Eris? The sorceress?”  
Loki frowned, recalling their little game in the shelter, “She is a Midgardian. She is of little use to me.”  
“She is of much use to us, however. She will identify the Midgardian scientist. She has brought us the casket. Yes, she is a worthy ally even as she is but a woman and a terran woman at that. You could doubtless employ her as a servant.”  
Loki's heart was racing, his mind reeling once more and he put his hand upon the seat of the chair to steady himself, “I beg your leave, Milord. I must retire. I am in great need of rest.”  
“Of course. It is for the best. Perhaps you shall be more yourself come the dawn. You may go.”  
Loki bowed deeply, staggering backward to the door to emerge into the cold night air where he took a deep breath, ignoring Hobnir's chortle as he strode through the camp toward his shelter.

 

 

Colin tossed and turned on the cot he'd placed in the hall outside Eidra's door. He would start to sweat, throw the wool blankets off, become cold again and cover up, the slightest sounds rousing him from his light doze. It was of little use trying to sleep, his mind afire with remorse, anger.  
Stark was wrong. Letting these people fall prey to the Jotunns was akin to murder in his opinion. It was well past time to enlist Earth's aid. They would deal with the fallout after. Of course the point was moot since the bridge was now manned by a phalanx of warriors, the portals were off line and their markers had been taken.  
Earlier that evening what members of the High Council were present in the palace held a meeting in the secrecy of Thor's bedchamber. He'd been in attendance, his title of liaison still in place. He listened in stunned silence as they called for the surrender of the Midgardian Simon Foster to the Jotunns, summarily tearing Loki apart in absentia, upbraiding Thor for appointing him adviser though Thor was resolute in his decision, seeming the only one besides Colin standing in his brother's defense, for that was how Thor continued to address him. Urtek was one such violent detractor, his rejection of Loki made all the more obvious when he spied Lisle endeavoring to comfort Fen after the incident in the Great hall. He'd taken Lisle by the arm, steering her toward her mother, warning Fen to stay away from his daughter.   
“He is a danger to the realm!” one council member cried, “He should have remained locked up in the cells!”  
“Banishment is not enough!” howled another, “He is guilty of treason!”  
“He is a Jotunn! One of our hated enemies,” Urtek stood up, “He has no place on the Council or at the side of the King, nay, in the realm itself!”  
At last, Colin could no longer hold his tongue and rose from his chair,“You knew! You fecking knew. Whether it was rumor, conjecture, fecking street corner gossip or gospel, you knew what he was and you've known for ages. That didn't stop you from accepting him back into the royal family, letting him advise the King, begging yer Majesty's pardon, yet when he's taken by yer enemies through stronger magic, yer ready to toss him into the street like yesterday's refuse? Hypocrites, the whole lot of ya!”  
“Of course you would speak upon his behalf, Midgardian,” Urtek sneered, “Do you not bask in the light of his hospitality? Commingle with his family so thoroughly that you now wish to become one of them? I find it strange, exceeding strange that you would come to the defense of someone who remains guilty of laying waste to one of Midgard's great cities. Have you so completely renounced your citizenship that you could forgive him such glaring indiscretions?”  
“I've no right to judge him and neither have you. None of us can until we've walked in his shoes. He's been nothing but gracious and kind to me, a trait I think exemplifies the Asgardian peoples...”  
“Ah, but he is not Asgardian. Perhaps his actions more personify his Jotunn side!”  
Back and forth they shouted at each other, only stopping when Thor roared for order. Incensed, Urtek strode from the room, Colin only kept himself from following the man by sheer force of will and the realization that it might create a bad impression were he to break a Council member's jaw. He'd excused himself as well, sick at heart, returning to Eidra's bedchamber where he found Stark sitting before the fire with Helgi. The room looked like some bizarre sleepover, blankets and bodies spread about the floor, no one willing to leave their mistress's side. After reporting to an incredulous Stark what had been said in the meeting, he'd retreated with his bad humor and a cot to the hallway, opting to be alone in his frustration...

He again fell into a light doze and was immediately beset by a dream of Brynn and Astrid chasing fireflies in the manor yard. He opened his eyes, looked up at the flickering flames of the torch on the wall. Somewhere in the palace, a door clicked shut. He closed his eyes once more.  
“Master Denehy?”  
“Mmmm,” Colin groaned, “G'way.”  
“Master Denehy, please.”  
Colin sat up, rubbed his eyes, “What is it, fer fuck sake?”  
As his vision cleared, he spied, hovering below the torch across the hall, a haze which immediately coalesced into a thin pillar, solidified until he could make out Hal's pinched features, hands clasped at his waist in the pose he'd always adopted in life, ever ready to serve.  
“Well this is new,” Colin swung his legs over the side of the cot, “Where's the old man?”  
“Really, Master Denehy,” came Hal's reply, his countenance haughty, “It is breech of etiquette to speak so casually of the dead.”  
When Colin simply stared at him, he continued on, his voice hollow, exasperated, “Master Wallace has moved to the next...existence if you will....with Mistress Wallace, therefore it falls to me to watch over the Protector.”  
“You mean they've been reborn?” Colin chuckled, leaning back against the wall, startled by the echo of a a child's giggle and the caress of a cool breeze across his cheek.  
“Call it what you like and rest assured they were happy though Master Wallace expressed great concern about leaving his Highness, Prince Loki.”  
“They were good friends,” Colin touched his face, feeling the spot of cold along his cheekbone fade beneath his fingers.  
“Dear friends, yes, and his Highness has a tremendous need for such as this right now, does he not?” Hal drifted closer to the cot, “You must rescue him from his captors, restore balance to the realms.”  
“How can I rescue someone who's not interested in being rescued in the first place. He's not himself anymore. Not right in the head.”  
“Is that not the point? He has been unmade. Does it not stand to reason he could be made whole again?”  
“I'd like to hope so though I've not a fecking clue how to go about bringing him to his senses.”  
Hal drifted back and forth before him, “Nevertheless, you will try.”  
“I told you I would if I knew what to do,” Colin sat forward, “You sound pretty sure of yerself.”  
Hal nodded,the mist flowing up and down with his movements, swirling about his face like a silk scarf, “I am because I have been so told.”  
“Told what by whom?”  
Hal gave him a thin smile, “I have been told you will try, by whom I cannot say.”  
“Okay then do I succeed? Does everything work out? Are the Jotunns gonna feck off?””  
“I regret I do not know.” Hal's form flickered.  
“All you know is that I'll try...right. I thought the spirit world was omniscient?” Colin lay back down on the cot, closed his eyes  
“You must rescue his Highness,” Hal hovered over him, “If you do not, the realms will suffer for it.”  
The click of the bedchamber door made Colin look up to see Stark poke his head out into the hallway.  
“Who were you talking to?”  
“Meself,” Colin grunted, turning to face the wall, “It's a form of schizophrenia. I get it whenever I'm held hostage.”  
“Uh huh,” Stark nudged the cot, “Whatever you say, buddy. Just so's you know, Eidra's awake again, staring off into space. Kinda creeping me out. Helgi's nodded off in the chair and the rest of the band are out. I'm going to try and find Eidra something to eat. She's gotta keep it together for the kiddies. Why don't you go in and sit with her, try and bring her around?”  
Colin glanced over his shoulder at Stark, “What am I going to say? Sorry yer husband turned out to be an enemy of the realm. Better luck next time? I've run out of positive encouragement.”  
“You know, it's good to see you take your job so seriously,” Stark kicked the cot harder, “What with your playing around at being an Asgardian, you might want to act the part and comfort one of its citizens in her time of need.”  
Colin scowled at Stark, sat up, swinging his legs over the floor. To be honest, he'd been dreading having to face Eidra again. This whole nightmare would never have happened if the portals hadn't been built and he felt personally responsible even though he knew deep down the matter was out of his hands, had been ever since the king had given his blessing to the project.   
“I'll be back in a few minutes,” Stark waved at him as he started down the corridor, “Gotta find the damn cafeteria in this place.”  
Colin eased the door open and slipped inside. Chase raised his head to look at him, rolled over and hunkered down beneath his blanket. Eidra, if she'd been awake before, now looked to have drifted back to sleep. He sat down in the chair beside her bed, gazing about the room. The firelight cast low shadows along the walls, hanging drapes. Colin glanced at Eidra once more and nearly leaped out of the chair. She was staring at him.  
“I thought you were asleep. Fergive me.”  
She lay there, silent as he struggled to find something to say that wouldn't sound like he was avoiding every relevant subject in the last twenty-four hours. He came up with nothing. At last he leaned down, elbows on his knees to look at her.   
“I know I've said it before but I'm sorry, Eidra. I'm so sorry. We've made a mess of this whole affair and now yer family is suffering for it. I wouldn't blame the king if he ejected the lot of us from the realm. If I could fix this, if I could bring Brynn back, break whatever hold the Jotunns have over yer husband, I would do whatever it took...”  
Though she said nothing, Eidra's hand emerged from beneath the coverlet, coming to rest atop his own and Colin gave her a sad smile, hoping that maybe, just maybe, everything would be alright.

 

 

Eris's eyes flew open moments before she hit the floor of the shelter. She lay there stunned, looking up at Loki as he crawled onto the bed, collapsing face down with a whimper.   
“Oh hell no,” Eris rose to her knees, gasping, “I am not freezing to death for anyone. You're going to share your space,” she had considered saying warmth but as of yet she'd not encountered any, physical or emotional. His only response was to turn on his side and curl into a ball. She gave the rough blanket beneath him a tug, then a hard yank, ducking when he sat up kicking and thrashing at the coverlet until it spilled into her lap.  
“Take it!” he roared, “I have no need for it. As long as you will cease your hue and cry!”  
“Do you not get it?” she nudged the bed, feeling a bit braver, “I don't care if we sleep back to back but I need some body heat or I'm going to be dead by morning.”  
Maybe it was a slight exaggeration, maybe it wasn't but she didn't want to play the odds. When she received another groan, she climbed onto the bed. He raised his head and she tensed, ready to run if he started swinging.  
“How dare you come to my bed uninvited! Away with you!”  
She dropped to the fur robes which passed for a mattress, facing away from him, “You didn't complain about me being on the bed earlier. Sorry, I'm down for the night.”  
She felt hands at her back and she gripped the wood frame tightly as they gave her a mighty shove. If not for the situation, it could have been almost comical as she pushed back with her legs, inching further and further into the middle until at last his hands disappeared and she heard a dull thud.  
“Shit,” she whispered, flipping over to see him leap up from the ground, his face a mask of rage.  
“Bitch! I could have you beaten! I could cast you out into the night. There you would surely freeze!”  
Had she gone too far? There was only one way to find out.  
“You won't throw me out because Menyir still needs me and you don't want to disappoint him so you can just give up the spoiled prince act and go to sleep. Is that too much to ask? I don't appreciate being treated like a servant...”  
Loki shuddered, dropped forward to kneel on the bed, grabbing a fistful of the front of her tunic, “What is her name?”  
“What the fuck? Who?!” Eris struggled to tear his hand away, “Who?”  
“THE SERVANT! THE WOMAN IN THE GREAT HALL!” he bellowed, nearly nose to nose with her.  
“I don't goddamn know! Jesus....,” then her mind burst to life. Perth had, on occasion, mentioned Loki's wife had been a servant in his household when she was a young woman.  
“You mean your.....her...ahhhn!” she shrieked as he shook her harder.  
“What is her name!”  
Should she say it? Would he throw a rod? Have a complete meltdown?  
“If you know of whom I speak, tell me!”  
“Her name is Eidra, okay? Eidra. Now let go of me!” her tunic slid from his grasp and he sat there staring through her for a long moment before sinking to the mattress with a moan.  
Eris watched him for a few minutes as he lay there, hands covering his face until she realized he had at last fallen asleep. She drew the blanket over her and lay back down beside him, gazing at the blue rock in the grate while she once more contemplated escape but where would she go? Back to Perth at the Oak and Thistle to share in Asgard's fate as Menyir laid waste to the realm? To Earth where she faced incarceration in a federal prison? Soon enough, exhaustion shut her eyes, driving her concerns into the ether to wait until morning.


	87. 87

It was full on dark when they'd awakened, shivering with the cold in the abandoned cottage. The fire had burned down to coals, ineffective against the harsh Asgardian winter chill. By Simon's watch, it was after two in the morning and so they hurriedly gathered their belongings and started out for the city, racing against the sunrise. By the time they reached the ridge from which Simon and Lelia had first watched the attack the horizon had brightened enough for them to distinguish the skyline of the city. Torches burned along the city walls, around the palace. To their left, from the forest floor below, came a faint blue glow.   
Brenna stood there on the ridge, scanning the walls finding faint movement, likely guards at their posts. She hated going in blind. Where would be a safe spot to appear unnoticed by the enemy if they were indeed inside?  
“ 'Tis going to be light soon,” Lelia nodded toward the west where the line of light was growing ever more obvious.  
Brenna walked through the palace in her mind. The Great Hall, the Library, the Throne room, her grandmother's bedchamber, the servants quarters,....  
“I have it. No one will be in the arboretum at this hour,” she held the Uruz up between her thumb and forefinger, “When the portal opens, walk through but stay close so you can retreat if the enemy be present, do you ken?”  
“We do,” Simon took Lelia's hand, ready to pull her back to safety.  
“Alright. The city of Asgard, The palace, the Arboretum.”  
The air before them shimmered, the view of the city fading as a large circle coalesced before their eyes to become a vibrant tangle of tall trees and low lush bushes. A small bird flew out of the portal, squawking into the forest behind them.   
“Go on. I will follow you.”  
Simon squared his shoulders, tightened his grip on Lelia's hand and they stepped through, turning to the portal.   
“Come on,” Simon whispered, “No one's here.”  
With one last look about her at the forest, she hefted her duffle bag and left the freezing cold ridge for the warmth of the glass enclosed garden, the portal closing behind her with a soft whump.  
“This is beautiful,” Lelia breathed, “Look at the flowers, bloomed out of season!”  
“It is one of my favorite places in the palace. Do you know how to shoot a crossbow?”  
“I was near born with a bow in me hand. Beggin' yer pardon, yer Highness but 'tis Asgard, who does not know how to handle a bow?”   
When Simon raised his hand she clucked her tongue, “Present company excluded and that be a subject we'll broach soon enough.”  
Brenna untied the crossbow and the bag of bolts from her duffle and handed them up to Lelia, shoving the bag underneath a low lying bush, “Do not shoot unless I give word.”  
“Aye.”  
“How do they keep it so warm in here?” Simon bent to study a large orange flower but Brenna was already making her way along one of the pathways, her dagger unsheathed in her hand. Before she'd gone more than a few steps she heard Lelia cry out.  
“Simon! Look at yer cloak!”  
Rays of gold and green light emanated from beneath Simon's cloak, bright enough now to cast their shadows tall along the mosaic inlaid walkway. Simon undid the cloak at his throat and let it slide to the ground, un-shouldering the pack.  
“ 'Tis the runes!” Lelia opened the flap, squinting as she peered inside.  
“And the Uruz, Brenna,” Simon pointed to the necklace which was now glowing a brilliant white beneath her sweater.  
“The gods wept!” Brenna hissed, pulling her necklace out of her sweater and over her head. She dropped it into the open pack, pointing at the glass ceiling overhead, “Shut the flap, quickly before we are found out.”  
Simon shut the flap, clicking it closed, shook his head. Beams of light shone through every pinhole, thin spot, seam. At last, Simon set it in the middle of his cloak and wrapped it up into a bundle, effectively damping the glow.  
“How are ye going to carry that? Ye need yer hands free for what may come,” Lelia tugged at the bundle, “Just put the pack back on and pull yer cloak tight. We're all in for it anyhow.”  
Simon looked at Lelia, then to Brenna who shrugged, “Whatever you do, do it with all haste. We must hurry.”  
Simon unwrapped the pack, and donned it once more as Lelia draped his cloak around his shoulders, “It's not perfect.”  
“We have no time for perfect,” Brenna gestured to them, “We must find the King.”

 

Colin sat straight up in the cot to gaze about the corridor, his heart racing. The tall windows had started to lighten with the coming dawn. It looked to be a sunny day too, a complete juxtaposition to what could possibly be Asgard's last sunrise. The halls were mostly silent save for light footfalls here and there, doors opening and closing. The palace was waking up for the day. He swung his feet over the floor, glanced at the closed door beside him.  
The evening prior while Colin sat holding Eidra's hand, trying to be of some comfort, Tony had returned with a bowl of barley porridge topped with dried berries. They tried in vain to coax Eidra to eat but nothing would move her. She simply curled up into a ball and turned away from them. Not even Helgi could convince her to take a spoonful. He'd retreated to his cot, defeated.   
He rubbed his face, stretched. Maybe he would visit the children in the nursery. If only his heart would stop pounding. He stood up, headed down the corridor, trying to stay positive in the midst of so much negative, finding it an impossible task.

 

Brenna slid up to the end of the hallway, peering around the corner so she could see the entrance to the Throne room. What she saw made her fairly leap with joy. There were two royal guards standing on either side of the double doors. The guard on the left she didn't know but the guard on the right was Silas.   
She rushed from her hiding place, “Silas! Oh Silas thank the gods! I need to see my uncle!”  
As she emerged from the shadows,Silas had brought his pike to the ready immediately raising it again as he recognized her, “Your Highness? I did not know you were returned from Midgard!”  
Spying movement behind her, he lowered his pike again, “Who goes? State your name!”  
“They are with me. Silas. 'Tis Simon Foster and his companion, Lelia,” Brenna pushed the pike to the side, “They have come to see the King.”  
“Master Foster?” Silas stepped forward, “Can it be?”  
“It can and it is,” Simon pulled his cloak tighter around him, “I have returned and I must see King Thor.”  
Silas glanced at his fellow guardsman who wore a look of shock upon his face until Simon cleared his throat, “Excuse me but is there something wrong?”  
“There is much wrong, Master Foster,” Silas reached for the door handle, “The King will tell you.”  
“Wait, Silas,” Brenna took him by the arm, “Where are my parents? My brothers and sisters?”

 

“Take him,” the woman laughed weakly, “Put your hand behind his head...yes like that. See? 'Tis simple.”  
He gazed down at the squalling infant in his arms then back up at the woman from the palace, the woman who had been screaming his name, laying siege to his mind.   
“Fenris,” she lay back on the pillow and closed her eyes, “Such a lovely name. Our little wolf pup.”  
_“Who are you?”_ The words sat ready upon his tongue though they came out much different, “The odds are now even. Two women, two men.”  
“What of Helgi?” the woman chuckled, “You are yet outnumbered.”  
“Indeed,” his voice sounded far away, “I stand corrected.”  
The baby in his arms sneezed, shuddered. He was so pale.  
“Give him back to me so I might keep him warm.”  
“Here now,” came a voice at his elbow as the baby was lifted from his arms, “Off with you, let them rest. There is a pot of mulled wine on the hearth for yourself and Chris.”  
A lady of middling age, a kerchief tied about her white hair, laid the baby in the woman's arms. The name Chris tore a hole through his heart though he had not a clue why.  
“Drink up lad.”  
A heavyset bearded man sat in a rocking chair before a large roaring fire, a mug raised in his hand. He returned the gesture, surprised to find he was holding his own mug, gave a smile as he sat in another rocking chair across from the old man, looking about the simple common room.  
“The son you've been waiting for. He'll fill the void left by poor Silas, not that he'll take the angel's place, mind you. Here's to his memory.”  
He felt joy, profound sorrow as he took a sip of the warm, sweet liquid.  
_“Where am I?”_  
“To Silas.”  
_“Who are you?!”_  
“Now to your current predicament,” the heavyset man leaned forward in the chair, “Hold fast to what you were lest you lose yourself forever.”  
From behind the door to his left, the baby began to cry again. It was maddening. All so familiar and yet so alien.  
“Who are you?”  
The man reached across the void, put his hand upon his knee, “I was your dearest friend. You were, for want of blood, a son to me. I warned Colin of what was coming, the good Lord knows I did....”  
_“Colin...”_  
The name echoed in his head, faded.  
“...and he did all he could, bless him,” the man squeezed his knee, “The Protector is coming. The runes have returned....”

 

He lay there staring at the woman's sleeping form, her back to him, dark hair spilling across the pillow and he put a hand to her shoulder, fighting desperately to recall the face of the woman in his dream, drawing her closer to him but as her head rolled backward he saw, illuminated by the cerulean glow from the grate, the face of the Midgardian woman and he squeezed his eyes shut trying to hold onto the dream, the old man, the pale little baby, the.....the.....  
He opened his eyes again. After a moment, he rose from the bed to stumble from the shelter as Eris gathered the blanket around her with a grunt.

When Loki neared the perimeter of the camp, the sentries came to attention but when he attempted to cross the boundary, the sentry nearest him stuck his massive lance into the ground at his feet.  
“Menyir has decreed no one shall leave the camp.”  
“I must speak to the Asgardians,” Loki stepped around the lance only to be met with another, crossed like an x in his path.  
“And so we will when the sun rises and we return to the city but not before.”  
“How dare you?” Loki shouted, enraged, “I am brother to the king! I demand you allow me to pass!”  
“We will summon the king,” the sentry nodded to one of his fellow guards, “If he says you may leave then so be it.”  
The guard started for Menyir's shelter, only getting a few steps away from him when Loki called out, “Stop!”  
The sentry regarded him, “My Prince?”  
Loki shook his head, confused as the last vestiges of the dream disappeared, leaving only a profound sorrow to hang over his head like a heavy mist.  
“Do not trouble yourself. I will speak with the Asgardians when the time comes,” Loki turned about, head down, staring at the frozen ground, tracing his path back to the shelter and the strange woman sharing his bed.


	88. 88

“She's coming around.”  
The words sounded muffled, as if her head was underwater. She lifted a hand to her temple, the ache inside her head so great she felt ready to vomit.  
“Open your eyes, Brenna.”  
It was her uncle. She tried to obey him, blinking hard against the morning sunlight streaming into the throne room.   
“Good girl. Guards! Fetch a litter.”  
Brenna stared about at the people standing over her. Simon, Lelia, Thor, Jane, struggling to comprehend what the King had said.  
_“Your father is with the Jotunns now. He is no longer one of us. Your brother, Brynn is dead, your siblings and your mother are here in the palace.”_  
She rolled to her side, gagged.  
“She had a nasty knock on the head when she fainted. She likely has a concussion.”  
Brenna wanted to nod in agreement with Simon but her stomach convulsed, taking all thought save that of spilling contents of her meager meal onto the marble floor. She rose to her hands and knees, wracked with dry heaves, felt hands at the back of her neck, pulling her hair away from her face.  
“Why did you come here to the palace? Can you not see we are compromised?”  
Was he talking to her?  
“I came here to bring you this,” there was a dull thump, the rustle of fabric, “For what purpose I've not a clue.”  
“You returned to a city under siege to bring me a satchel? Have you taken leave of your good senses?”  
“No, no. God no. Open the satch...the backpack.”  
All at once the floor before Brenna's eyes danced with multi-colored light. Above her came Jane's voice, “What in the hell...?”  
“The Rune Elementals. I traveled all the way to Muspelheim for the Rune Kenaz.....um, the cup...”  
“It cannot be!” Thor cried.   
Brenna brought her head up to see Thor lifting the chalice out of the backpack, then the ship's prism.  
“The Rune Elementals have returned!” he drew out the Uruz, stared at Brenna, “You carried this upon you for so many seasons.”  
Brenna gave him a weak smile, sitting back on her heels as he reached inside the pack again, “There are four runes, yet you have but three. Where is the final rune?”  
“That's the mystery we hoped you could help us solve,” Simon rubbed the back of his neck, “It was purely by chance we found the others.”  
“No,” Thor set the chalice into the pack, picked up the prism which cast his face in an eerie green glow, “If you set out to find the runes, you were meant to do so. The runes assemble in Asgard's darkest hour. Are you the protector?”  
“I don't think so. Harmand believes I'm the gatherer. I did bring them....well most of them... together.”  
“Then therein lies our dilemma,” Thor set the prism down, “Even were we in possession of the fourth rune, we do not know who to give them to and time is quickly running out. I say again, Simon Foster, you should not have come here.”  
“I couldn't very well traipse around the realm with the runes on my back while those bastards took over the city, not knowing if I could have been of some help had I returned. We're in this together. I didn't ask for asylum only to change camps when the odds were in someone else's favor!”  
“You do not ken my meaning,” Thor waved his hands impatiently at Simon, “Menyir has made two demands upon us. First he desires our allegiance, our acknowledgment that he rules the nine realms, including Asgard but he has also demanded that you be surrendered to him.”  
“Wait a minute,” Simon staggered backward as Lelia cried, “No! “NO!”  
“What do they want with me? I...I'm a scientist...I don't have the runes if that's what they're looking for. All I have...is well.....nothing except a little cottage in the town of Melos. Honestly, it's not worth much...I...”  
“They want you for your ability to build the portals.”  
Simon stopped, his mouth hanging open, “Ah....I...I know how to build them but if we don't have the material, all the knowledge in the world isn't going to be of any use. Can't you tell them that?”  
“They won't be reasoned with, “Jane added, “They believe you can build the portals which will give them the ability to travel through the nine realms untouched.”  
“That's insane. We'd need markers, at least one base in each realm to act as a bridge, a power source for each portal. What if we don't give in to their demands? Can't we explain to them how difficult it would be?” Simon studied the group who'd fallen silent, “I..I mean it would be impossible for me to go it alone.”  
“They will not be put off. If we fail to deliver upon their demands, they have threatened to use the casket upon Asgard and the rest of the realm.”  
“The casket? What is..?”  
“The casket?” Brenna interjected, “From the reliquary! However did they come to possess it? The reliquary is watched over by the Guardian!”  
“I would say magic but 'tis too kind a word. It was sorcery. The Midgardian woman you lost in the portal was not so lost as you were led to believe. 'Twas she who formed an alliance with the Jotunns, delivered the casket unto them,” here he nodded to Brenna, “...cast a spell upon your father so that he does not know himself.”  
“No, no. Eris Carter is dead....or floating about in some other dimension. I saw her disappear as she stepped through the portal...”  
Thor shook his head, “She is one of Midgard's mutants. Her ability to disappear is her advantage.”  
“Good lord, it was deliberate, wasn't it. Oh god,” Simon clapped his hand to his mouth, “All registered mutants were banned from applying for the program.”  
“But not all mutants are registered,” Brenna added, “There were a number at the school who refused to register, saying it violated their civil rights to be forced to do so.”  
“And now she has brought upon us the destruction of Asgard. If we do not surrender to their demands, we shall perish along with the other realms.”  
“But how? What is this casket you're talking about,”  
Thor's face grew grave, “It is the sacred relic of the Jotunns, brought here by my father to prevent them from doing that to which they now endeavor. The casket possess the power of endless winter. Death to all who need warmth, the sun, to survive. They will open the heart of the casket, covering the realm in ice. If they cannot rule Asgard, they will bury it.”  
“Your Majesty!”  
Everyone turned toward the archway where Silas's fellow guard now stood, his face white against the dark silver of his helmet, “The Jotunn leader Menyir and a delegation of warriors stand at the gate demanding entrance.”  
Thor nodded, turned to Simon, “Secure the runes and find a safe place to stay hidden. I will try to buy us more time. We may yet hope for a miracle.”  
Thor had taken Silas aside and was now giving him instructions, “Send word about the palace, tell the High Council to assemble in the Great Hall. Bring the Jotunn delegation there so that we may deliver our response...”

Simon knelt to the floor, securing the flap to his pack. If the Asgardians didn't meet Jotunn demands, everyone he knew would be dead. Lelia, the light in his darkness, whoever was left alive at the encampment, the citizens of Asgard, the royal family. What then would stop them from laying waste to Alfheim, Harmand and Wickett and the good folk of Melos. Then on to Muspelheim, Earth, Niflheim, Vanaheim. Even If they couldn't make the portal work, they now controlled the Bifrost. They had to be stopped.

 

Colin jerked awake, startling Cait who'd been sitting in his lap, clutching her rag doll tightly,   
“Are you tired, Colin?”  
He drew a deep breath, swallowing his responding yawn, “Aye, a bit.”  
“I want to see Mama,” Cait whispered, burrowing further beneath his arm.   
Colin glanced across the room at Bruna who sat upon one of the nursery beds, rubbing Astrid's back. As their eyes met, her face crumpled and she turned away.  
“Mama needs her rest right now, sweetheart,” Colin shifted position stretching his feet toward the fire. He felt useless, sitting here in the nursery playing babysitter while Asgard teetered on the edge of Armageddon.  
“When will Papa come back?”  
His stomach did a flip, “I don't know....”  
The creak of the nursery door cut Colin's response short as he peered around the back of the chair to see Fen slip into the room, “Is everyone asleep?”  
“I am not!” Cait dropped to the floor and ran to greet him while Colin stood from the chair.  
“Then I have a surprise for you. Look who has returned!”  
Brenna slipped inside the nursery, eliciting a squeal from Cait which brought Astrid's head up from the pillow.  
“Brenna! Oh Bren! Papa is gone away! Mama is ill! Brynn is....oh I cannot say it! I want to go home!” Cait wrapped herself around Brenna's waist, sobbing. Astrid was now standing in bed, arms outstretched, wailing.  
“Brenna, when did you get back?” Colin lifted Astrid from the bed, carrying her over to Brenna.  
“The morrow before last. I arrived at the manor to find it decimated, deserted, poor Hal dead. Eldred told me what had happened. He hid in the stables when the Jotunns came,” Brenna murmured, taking Astrid to her hip, the other arm about Cait's shoulders, “I should never have left for Midgard.”  
“Now you can't say that,” Colin put a hand upon her shoulder, “Nobody knew this was going to happen.”  
“At the very least, I would have been here for my mother. For the men at the encampment...for Chase...”  
Colin grimaced, took his hand away, “Ah, he's here in the palace with Stark.”  
“He is safe?” Brenna cried, “Thank the gods! Will you bring me to him?”  
“Excuse me, I hope we're not intruding.”  
Colin looked behind him to see Simon standing just inside the doorway with a lovely, red haired woman at his side.  
“Simon! Christ, it's a damn reunion! You chose a terrible time to return though,” Colin strode toward them, clapping Simon on the shoulder and giving him a quick hug, “We're in a tight spot.”  
“I know. I know. Listen, I haven't much time. Might I speak to you alone?”  
Colin shrugged, put a hand to his temple. A curious buzz had started in his head, “Aye, let's step out into the corridor.”  
When Lelia made to follow Simon, however, he took her by the shoulders and turned her around, “You go with Brenna. This is important. I have to talk to Colin by myself.”  
“Too important to share with me?” Lelia cried.  
“Do this for me, just this once. Don't question my reasons.”  
Lelia opened her mouth seeming ready to deliver another protest, faltered, at last grabbing Simon's hand, pressing his knuckles to her lips in a long kiss, she hurried to Brenna's side as the men slipped out of the nursery.

 

Loki glanced once more at the Midgardian woman keeping stride with him down the long corridor to the Great hall. Menyir had insisted she come with them so as to identify Simon Foster when they acceded to his wishes as he expected they would. Loki was not so certain the Asgardians would comply. He was not certain of anything, in fact. When he'd awakened that morning, his mind seemed to have quieted but from the moment they stood at the edge of the forest gazing at the massive gates of the city, his head was once more filled with images, flashes of nameless faces, smiling, laughing. Visions of himself facing a young Asgardian warrior in a torchlit arena, standing at the bottom of an immense pile of wood. If he were to turn his head, he could see the Asgardian King, Thor holding his hands out, lips moving in silent blessing. Still others, walking through the corridors, opening a door to reveal Odin's used up mate, Frigga, the woman with the dark hair whom the Midgardian woman had given the name, Eidra....Eidra sitting in a chair by the fire in a vast bedchamber, Eidra hiding behind the tall velvet curtains waiting to spring out and surprise a small child...  
_“Cait”_  
He shook his head hard enough to garner the Midgardian woman's attention.  
“What's wrong?”  
He grunted, suppressing the urge to backhand her off her feet when she mumbled, “Well fuck you then.”  
He looked up at Menyir, tall, imperious, his face a mask of pride. When they returned to Jotunnheim there would be time for questions, learning all he did not know or could not recall. For now he would struggle to adopt the same posture, ignore the wild gallop of his heart as they neared the entrance to the Great Hall.

 

Simon set the backpack on the floor at his feet, “I need your help, Colin. The barbarians are at the gates as it were.”  
“The Jotunns are here?” he felt oddly detached as if he were standing to the side watching the exchange take place.  
“Yes, and they will doubtless want an answer. I'm going to give them what they want,” Simon squatted to the floor and undid the strap of his pack, flipping open the top, “But I need you to keep these safe for me.”  
Colin stared into the backpack, mute.  
“They are the Rune Elementals. Well three of them anyhow. We can't find the fourth...”  
_“It's my grandmother's ring. I'll have to ask someone why it does that,”_ echoed Beth's voice in Colin's head. He could fairly see the moonstone ring dancing before his eyes.  
“Colin, are you well?”  
“Aye,” he nodded, hoping Simon wouldn't notice he'd broken into a cold sweat, “Only I've never seen anything like them....”  
“They are very special. I'm entrusting them to you. Keep them hidden.”  
“Hidden,” he whispered as Simon stood up.  
_“...the Protector has but to touch each Rune and he will be imbued with their power. Unfamiliar though the Protector may be with his new found ability, he must trust the Runes to guide him, to show him what he must do. Only then will the realms remain safe under his protection...”_ The words enveloped him, reverberated in his skull until he could hear nothing else.   
“Stay out here in the corridor until I'm long gone.”  
Simon's request broke Colin's trance, “Gone. Where the hell are you going?”  
Simon put a finger to his lips, “For god sakes, keep your voice low. She's got ears like a bat. I'm going to buy us more time than the king ever could. We need to find the fourth rune and get the runes to the Protector before the Jotunns win this war.”  
“What....?”  
“Brenna will explain everything to you,” Simon gripped Colin's forearm, “Take care of Lelia for me until we meet again.”  
“But where are you going?”  
Simon tilted his head down the corridor, “To surrender.”  
“Yer daft,” Colin mumbled, looked again at the bag at his feet.  
“Perhaps but I've a plan and I have to play the odds for Asgard, for our people left at the encampment, ” Simon cocked a thumb toward the nursery door, “And for her. After this is all sorted out, we'll all sit down to a pint and have a laugh about it, won't we.”  
Simon clapped his hands together, turned and started down the corridor.  
Colin watched the spot where Simon had been for some time before he bent down with trembling hands to open the pack again. At the top of the pack sat the chalice. The last rune. It glowed far brighter than the others. He glanced up and down the hallway, making sure it was deserted, took a deep breath and reached into the pack, his fingers grazing the surface of the cup.  
The corridor, the torches with their flickering light, the nursery door, all disappeared as he was enveloped in a pillar of light. Bright, white tendrils snaked along his skin, through his body, twining and twisting, threading themselves along bone, sinew, muscle, penetrating every molecule. His heart was a thunder of drums in his ears. He could have run to the manor and back without breaking a sweat. He felt on fire, cold as ice, all sensation combining as one to wash over him and all at once, he was standing in the corridor again, light headed, his mind racing with new knowledge, thoughts, history. The palace, the city, the nine realms, their wonders, secrets, laid bare inside his head. And something more, something growing, transforming like a butterfly inside its cocoon. He slid down the wall beside the nursery door, head in his hands hearing the door swing open. He looked up to see Lelia poke her head out into the corridor, “We're going to see Brenna's mother now....where's Simon?”

 

With every step toward the Great Hall, Simon became more confident of his decision. Portal one was destroyed. Likely the data along with it. Anything they might have salvaged, if they were smart enough to do so, would still have to be sorted. Of course portal two was now online unless they'd damaged Longhouse two as well. If it was intact, there was still the matter of the solar cell banks located between Longhouses one and two. The banks needed to be drained to the main battery every evening to store the power they'd amassed, maintaining the lights, computers and other appliances like the mess tent fridges and water pumps. The portals needed to draw power from the entire bank for their little parlor trick. It was a certainty the banks were now dead. They would need at least three days to draw enough power for a portal activation even with Stark's super cells, if in fact they hadn't been damaged He'd done a test at eighty percent capacity with minimal success. Any less than eighty percent and there was no guarantee that anyone could pass through and come out the other side with all his parts in the right place, much less alive. Even though he'd be going with the enemy to the encampment, facing the remaining agents, techs, ordering them to prepare the remaining portal there were so many different ways he could slow them down. Hell, he could hold them for up to two weeks at the very least. He almost started to whistle as he reached the open doors of the Great Hall, stopping himself at the sight of the Jotunn delegation standing before the table where the High Council was seated, Thor at its center. At last he squared his shoulders and crossed the threshold.

 

  
“Mama? Mama open your eyes,” Brenna whispered,“It's Bren. I'm here.”  
“She's been drifting in and out of consciousness,” Stark put his hand on Brenna's back, “She's still in shock. I wish I had some valium. Maybe it'd reset her, give her some relief.”  
“She needs none of your Midgardian potions,” Helgi grumbled from the end of the bed where she sat rubbing Eidra's leg, “She needs her family mended.”  
“Mama,” Fen leaned over, “Brenna is here. Please wake up.”  
When they received no response, Fen turned to Brenna, “What if she never awakens again?”  
“Do not say that!”  
Brenna retreated from the bed, despondent as she regarded the room. Beth and Gretten stood hand in hand at the foot of the bed beside Fen whose worried countenance near broke her heart. Lelia' with her tear stained but resolute face staring at Colin who had adopted a strange blank stare directed at no one in particular, Simon's backpack slung over his shoulder, Stark, his eyes looking anywhere but at the people around him, Helgi gazing at her mother as if willing her to arise.  
“I sent Chase for food a little while ago, he should be back soon,” Stark nodded at the door which flung open as if on command.  
“I asked the ladies in the kitchen down the stairs for something to eat. Make the best of it,” Chase called over his shoulder as he backed into the room with an overladen tray.  
“Chase!” Brenna cried nearly causing him to drop the tray to the floor, saved only by Gretten's strong hands as they took the tray from his grasp.  
“Bren! Jesus what are you doing here?” he wrapped his arms around her neck as she gave a sob of relief.  
“Looking for my mate, you fool!”  
“Oh god, don't tell me you went to the encampment.”  
“Of course I did after I saw what had happened to my home, I had to find someone to help me. I did not know the Jotunns had attacked the encampment as well.”  
Chase stepped back from her, “You remember the woman we thought we'd lost coming through the portal in the second group? It seems she wasn't so lost after all. She was with them.”  
“I know, I know. What I do not ken is how in the nine realms she disappeared and why she is aligned with the Jotunns.”  
Chase shrugged, “I have no idea. I only know they were looking for Simon Foster at the encampment.”  
Brenna nodded, heard Lelia sniff loudly, “I knew it not then but I know it now. Simon was with us, he and his mate, Lelia.”  
“Mate?” Stark interjected, “What the hell are you talking about? Simon's here in the palace and he has a girlfriend?”  
“He has a mate,” Brenna corrected him, “They do not use such labels here in Asgard.”  
“Mate, wife, fiance, old battle axe, I don't care what you call it. Where is he now?”


	89. 89

“How can we give you someone we have not yet found?” Thor banged his fist on the table, temporarily distracting Loki from the voices in his head though they returned with a vengeance.  
_...“To honor the spirits of my ancestors who sit on high in Vallhalla, to honor my father, to take my place among men, I give thanks to you for your sacrifice, great auroch. Let this kill serve as a symbol of my passage from boy to man. This I ask in the name of the mighty Allfather.”...  
... “I would not wish for another child. I would not exchange one life for another only imagined. I could not survive losing you again.”...._  
“You have not looked for him!” Menyir roared his response. Through the haze of static in his mind, Loki watched a couple of the Council members cringe in their seats and he grinned.  
“How can I send my warriors to search for Master Foster when you stopper up my city and barricade the roads? I ask for more time...”  
_“The Queen is with child....”_  
“I can afford you no more time! I will soon return to Jotunheim to gather my warriors. We have an empire to build. If you cannot help, you are but a hindrance!”  
_“...There will soon be an heir to the throne of Asgard.”_  
“Wait!”  
Loki looked to his right. Nearly even with him was a short man with a sandy blond shaggy hair and a short beard. He slowed to stare at Loki as he passed, eyes wide before Menyir's thundering voice filled the room.  
“Who dares interrupt this parlay?!”  
The man turned away from him, looking to the tables where the High Council sat, “I am the Midgardian, Simon Foster. I have come to surrender myself to the Jotunns.”  
At a nod from Menyir, Eris emerged from the line of warriors beside them and the man called Simon began to sway on his feet, “You? How...?”  
“This man is who he says he is,” she glanced up at him but for a moment before melting back to hide in the shadows.  
“I forbid it!” Thor leaped across the table, striding forward, his hammer pointed at the diminutive man, “You sought asylum here in Asgard, a request which I granted, therefore you are under the protection of the realm!”  
“I am also free to make my own choice,” Simon rasped, “And for the safety of the realm, I sacrifice my freedom. I will go with the Jotunns...good lord!”  
Menyir had drawn his long sword, bringing it down to block the path between Thor and himself, the metal clang echoing through the Hall.  
“Taken in comparison to the Allfather, you are a poor ruler! You would sacrifice the lives of countless of your subjects in this realm for one single Midgardian? Think better upon it.”  
Thor stopped, glaring at Simon over the edge of the sword blade, the silence dulling even the noise in Loki's head as the room waited for their King's reply.  
“You will end the siege of the city?”  
“I will. I am a Jotunn and true to my word. Of course I will leave contingents of my warriors at the Bifrost, the perimeter of the city and the encampment for we have much to prepare and I cannot have you stealing away to other realms for help. All that remains for you to do is to declare your allegiance to Jotunheim.”  
Thor's gaze slid up to Menyir's face before regarding the members of the High Council behind him.  
“It is done.”  
The sword rose into the air as Menyir nodded to one of his warriors, “You will see the wisdom of your choice soon enough.”  
Sulyir herded Simon away from Thor as Menyir clapped his hands, “We will return anon with our requirements.”  
When Loki turned to follow Menyir, Thor's hard stare stopped him in his tracks. His initial reaction, the urge, near overwhelming, to remain in the palace beside the fair haired fool, sickened him. He drew his dagger from the holster at his thigh, brandishing it at the King.  
“Were it in my power, I would carve your eyes from your skull!”  
“Would you?”  
He could fair feel Menyir's eyes at his back, “With greatest joy.”  
“Eidra mourns for you.”  
The dagger felt impossibly heavy in his hand, his grip faltered, “I know not of whom you speak. Tell her I need no Alfari woman's lament.”  
Thor's face split into a wide smile as he stepped closer, “Why would you think she is not of Asgard? My brother yet lives inside of you!”  
Loki raised the dagger, anger, white hot, enveloping him as he leaped forward, “I am not your BROTHER!”  
“LOKI!”  
The dagger stopped, hovering above the surface of Thor's upraised hammer as Loki stared into Thor's eyes, something akin to grief flooding through him.  
“I will not have such conduct by a prince of Jotunheim! Return to your place!”  
Lowering his dagger, averting his gaze, Loki turned without another word to Menyir, falling in step beside him as they made their way out of the hall with Simon in their midst.

 

Eris kicked at the sides of her horse in an effort to spur him forward with little effect. When they had summoned horses for herself and Simon, she'd groaned. In all her time on Asgard, she'd barely mastered a trot and now she was going to be traversing the countryside on horseback. She'd be lame by the time they reached the encampment. Simon, however, had climbed into the saddle with ease, his face a mask of grim determination.   
At last her horse lurched forward into a light canter and she drew even with Simon, steering the horse close to him.  
“They're not going to hurt you so you don't need to be afraid,” she murmured, “They need you.”  
When Simon deigned to acknowledge her, she spoke again, this time a bit louder though she kept her eyes on Menyir and Loki, a few yards distant, “I said, you don't have...”  
“Don't talk to me.”  
Eris drew up straight in her saddle, “Excuse me? I'm simply saying you don't have to be afraid.”  
“Don't I?” he turned to her, “Don't you?”  
He seemed to be about to say more, closed his mouth, opened it again, shut his eyes.  
She knew he was right though she wasn't going to tell him. They both had plenty to be afraid of “You're going to build more portals for them. You're nearly as valuable as that casket of theirs. I really don't see what you're worried about.”  
He was gripping the reins of his horse so tightly, his knuckles were white, “If nothing else, I'm curious. Do tell me, what are you getting out of this underhanded little deal?  
“Freedom,” her voice was a tremulous squeak, “and....”   
She looked ahead of her at Loki. She'd figured out long before this morning where she stood with him. She'd lost control of the entire situation, if she'd ever had it in the first place.   
“Go on.... what else?” Simon leaned over to her, “Money?”  
“Love!” she spat, angry at being so easily baited, “I am Loki's..” she bit her lip as Loki pulled back on the reins of his horse and turned his head a bit.  
“His what? His girlfriend? His whore? This is not the Loki I met. I don't know what's happened to him but he's certainly suffered for your acquaintance. Now let me set you straight to rights. I can indeed build the portals but I'll need manpower and not just lackeys. I'll need technicians, my other scientists, Mister Stark, yes Stark is the most important part of the equation because we designed the portals together, as a team but more than this I'll also require equipment, materials, more solar cells because from what I could see when I was at the encampment, the solar cell banks are heavily damaged, and where do you think all these resources, replacement parts are going to come from this time? Certainly not Earth, they're not big into funding interstellar invasion forces. You've no idea what you've done.”  
“What about the remaining portal?” she felt numb, searched the line of warriors for Sulyir.  
“I don't know how much damage I'm going to find when we reach the longhouses but if it hasn't been smashed to hell, it's the only one I can promise them and the only bloody place they're going to be able to reach when they open it is Earth!”  
He fell silent again, his shoulders slumped forward, leaving her to fret alone.   
She slowed her horse's pace, dropping back to follow along behind him. Before she drew her cloak over her head, she saw Loki twisted about in his own saddle, staring at them and she fingered the marker band on her wrist. Prison was starting to look pretty good.

 

When they at last reached the encampment, it was well past noon. Trying to ignore her growling stomach, she followed Simon as close as she dared, her trepidation growing with each remark he would make.  
“Half the bank's gone, hell and be damned...!”  
“Wire's going to need replacing......is that the central feed line I see sliced through? ”  
“Going to need to restart the remaining cells...i”  
At one point, she saw Sulyir staring at her and she gave him a nervous smile though he didn't return it. She couldn't tell if he was angry or anxious. She would have picked angry if it had been her choice. She'd royally screwed up. They'd be lucky if the other portal worked at all.  
Upon entering Longhouse two, Eris moved closer to Sulyir. The technicians, agents who had been spared to help the Jotunns stopped what they were doing to stare at Simon as he strode past them to the base of the portal.  
“What's going to happen now?” Eris muttered to Sulyir, “With the rest of your so called brethren?”  
“Menyir will return to Jotunheim with Loki and the casket to gather more warriors. He has grandiose plans for the realms and for this he will need an army.”  
“But what if the portal doesn't work like he wants it to?”  
Sulyir shrugged, “We have the Bifrost in our control. It is less than ideal being a fixed point.”  
“Why? Doesn't it work the same way the portals do?”  
“Yes, but with the portals,” he gestured to the base, “We can build them in different realms. With the Bifrost we will have to travel from Asgard and it gets unbearable in the summer.”  
Eris gave a smirk. Sulyir seemed to have a keener grasp of portal semantics than his King which was probably a good thing for Simon.  
“Sometimes, you have to take the bitter with the sweet, huh,” she mumbled watching Simon as he leaned over one of the technicians sitting at the computer bank beside the base.

 

“I've been bleeding the remaining cells. We have enough stored power for portal activation but it'll take twice as long to regenerate the power without the full bank.”  
Simon touched the screen in front of the tech, “And you'll have to draw on the bank to run the computers and the lights. We have to take that into consideration. You could put the perimeter lights at half power, make sure only essential equipment is running... ”  
“Sir,” the technician lowered his head, leaning closer to Simon, “We aren't really going to do what they want are we? I mean....we can't open the portal and let them invade Earth. That's like treason or aiding and abetting isn't it?”  
Simon glanced at the young man, “A solution is on its way. I'm not going to let them do anything of the sort if I can help it. They don't know the first thing about these portals and I'm counting on that to give us the time we need.”  
“For what, sir?”  
Simon patted him on the shoulder, “Just follow my lead.”  
He stood upright and turned to Menyir, swallowing down the panic which was simmering below the surface, “I...that is to say, we have to build up enough power to use this portal, your Majesty. Your men did a lot of damage when they arrived. As for building another portal, It's going to take some time. I'll need another longhouse built. The portals generate too much electromagnetic energy to be safely housed in the same building and I'll have to have the technicians under my command.”  
“Time? How much time?” Menyir fixed him with a bemused stare.  
Simon held his trembling hand up to tick off his fingers, quickly dropping it down again, “Ah, at least a month before base completion.”  
“A month? What mean you?” Menyir scanned the warriors around him until Sulyir spoke up.  
“A month is a moon, my King. They do not count their time as we do.”  
“An entire moon!” Menyir gestured toward the portal, “Why can we not use this one right now?”  
“The solar cells need time to draw enough power,” the technician pointed to the computer, “At least....a week? If we opened it now, it would rapidly destabilize cutting off whoever had made it to the other side, trapping them on Earth. You'd maybe have fifteen seconds on full power.”  
Simon fought down a smile as he nodded in agreement, “And we need to repair the encampment so we can have shelter and prepare food for our remaining workers. You do eat do you not?”  
Menyir stood there. Simon could see his jaw working back and forth until at last he waved at Simon, “Very well. I am leaving a contingent of warriors here. They will obey your commands... up to a point..at the least suggestion of sedition, they have orders to suppress any such uprising at their discretion. Upon my return, this portal will be ready and you will open it to Midgard upon your life.”  
“Of course, your Majesty,” he bowed with a smirk, “Upon my life.”  
With a grunt, Menyir turned about, ducking through the longhouse door followed by Loki, Eris and the rest of his warriors. Only then did the agents, technicians swarm Simon with countless questions until he had to clap his hands loudly in the air.   
“Oi! Oi! Listen to me! We are not tits up yet. We're going to do everything we can to hamper this operation. Right now we need to get this facility up and running again. We need shelters erected, a proper kitchen set up...”  
“It's not going to be as simple as that, sir,” came a voice from the crowd. Simon looked about, relieved to see Kenworth at the back of the group.  
“Nothing will be simple from here on out, no..”  
“It's not that, sir,” Kenworth moved forward, “We have to take care of our men. They wouldn't let us gather the bodies of the people who died in the initial attack. We have to find a place for them until we can bury them.”  
“Dear god,” Simon moaned, “Yes, yes of course.”  
He shuddered at the memory of the rows of tents, mangled, flattened, his grief quickly changing to anger, “Alright then. We've a job to do. Let's get on with it.”


	90. 90

He pulled the coverlet over him, for the briefest moment, thinking he was back on Earth in his bed in Helen's Bay until he heard Brenna's voice, low and soft.  
“The Protector hasn't been called upon for generations.”  
Colin huddled further beneath the blankets, feeling the hard wood of the cot frame against his feet. He couldn't recall how he'd come to be lying down.  
“Brenna, you said all the runes aren't there and even if they were, they don't know who to give them to. You're banking upon an ancient fairy tale.”  
Colin opened his eyes, frowned at Chase's voice.  
“They are no fairy tale. My...Papa has told me of the times the runes have saved the realms. I trust in their power.”  
“Yeah well I believe we should use your necklace and return to Earth. We'll have all the help we need.”  
“No! You heard what Tony said. I will not prevent the destruction of my world to usher in a new contagion!”  
“Thanks, thank you. I can really feel the love here.”  
“Chase, you know what I mean. Do not take personal offense to my remark. I wish Asgard to remain as it is. Would you want the Asgardians to force their way into Midgard and destroy all your technology in favor of a more pastoral existence?”  
“Now there's no saying that's what would happen if we called in the cavalry from Earth.”  
Colin listened to the short silence, smiling as he imagined Brenna's deadpan stare.  
“Okay, alright, fine then,” Chase replied again, “we sit here and wait until we're either frozen to death or the rest of the nine realms are conquered by giant blue meanies.”  
“Oh Chase can you not believe...?”  
“Believe in what? The power of magic? When the fate of my universe is on the plate?”  
If he didn't rescue the situation it was going to explode into a full blown shouting match and much as he wanted to see Chase get his eye blacked, now was not the time for infighting. He rolled to his back and sat up....

 

“Colin!”  
Colin opened his eyes, the afterimage of a thousand scenes fading from sight. He was kneeling on the marble floor before the fireplace. His hands were tingling as if they'd been asleep but his mind, his body...they felt as if a switch had been flipped.  
“Colin are you alright?”  
Brenna had her hand on his back and was now squatting down beside him, “Gods, you were speaking in the tongue of the ancients, pacing the room. What were you saying?”  
“You mean you could understand him?” Chase cried, “Jesus, I thought he was having a stroke or something!”.  
“I could not ken what he was saying, I only know the sound of the words. They do not teach such an archaic language to us!” Brenna spat, “It is used only by the gooar and only at ceremonies!”  
Colin shook his head. Scenes, voices were coming to him from far away, miles,...Simon, telling one of the agents to lay out tarps for the bodies.... _the bodies!_ Loki growling at Eris, telling her she would follow him to Jotunheim......Still further, realms....his mother sitting at the kitchen table reading one of her sainted tabloids with a hand to her mouth.....Director Fury standing before the Council at the U.N., hands clasped behind his back promising a response as soon as contact was re-established ....Pepper Potts sitting on a couch in a lavish suite in New York, the phone in her hand forgotten as she stared into space.....Hank McCoy speaking to...Ororo Munroe, names of the unknown shouted into his head as if they were on loudspeaker....still more...Noni knocking on the door to his parent's home......  
He lay his forehead on the floor, “Christ, make it stop!”  
“Colin, stand up,” Brenna pulled on his arm, “Please. Let me help you.”  
He sat back on his heels so abruptly Brenna stumbled backward to be caught by Chase. Lines, gossamer webs began to form like a roadmap before his eyes, scenes telling him what he was going to do, what was going to be done for him..... blind spots, visions he couldn't see. Were they as yet unscripted? His heart was a freight train in his chest.  
“Colin, the gods wept! Whatever came over you? Are you well?”  
He nodded, shook his head, nodded again, What harm could be done by a white lie?.  
“I'm...okay now....,” his voice sounded foreign to him, “We're all okay. We're going to be okay.”

 

Eris tore the edge off the pouch of freeze dried strawberries, tipping the package to her mouth, allowing the tart sweet pebbles to roll across her tongue.   
Sulyir had searched the encampment for something for her to eat, coming across agents restoring the mess tent. They gave him what they could find at the moment, preserved goods stored for the winter. The strawberries, dried soup in a hot packet, just open, add water and in two minutes you had a pouch of beef barley soup, a sleeve of crackers. The soup tasted like heaven after the hard nutty grains the Jotunns had called tunberries. When they'd handed her a bowl of thin green moss instead, she was ready to hurl it back at them. If she was going to Jotunheim, she was going to have to pack a lunch.  
If she was going....  
She tipped the pouch down to see Loki staring at her from across the shelter, “What?”  
He sat down upon his bed, “The smell of your foodstuff sickens me.”  
“Sorry, a woman has to eat.”  
“You will find no such detritus in Jotunheim,” he withdrew his dagger from its holster and began to polish the blade with the edge of his cloak.  
“Detra...what the hell did you say?”  
“Refuse, trash you ignorant wench,” he sneered, “If you are to serve me, you will learn to eat what we do.”  
Eris poured the remaining berries into her hand, her next statement a knee jerk thought which she wanted to take back as soon as it was uttered, “And what if I wanted to stay here on Asgard?”  
His resulting laughter sent chills racing through her.  
“Menyir has commanded you to return with us to his fortress. He feels you are still of value to our cause. Where you stay is no longer your choice to make. He will not allow you to remain here on Asgard. You will follow us to Jotunheim or you will die.”  
Eris swallowed hard, the berries stinging her throat, “You make a very convincing argument but I did what I said I would. I don't see how I'm going to be of any more help.”  
When Loki rose from the cot, she fought to stay on her stool by the grate. Her first instinct was to run from the shelter screaming.  
“Come now, did you not wish to be concubine to a prince of the realm?” he was hovering over her now, pointing at her with the tip of his dagger, “Is this not why you conspired to steal the casket for my brother?”  
Eris nodded, mesmerized and terrified all at once, felt the tip of the dagger at her chin, lifting her face up to meet his gaze.  
“Foolish Midgardian.”  
He flicked the dagger upward, and she winced at the sharp sting of the blade scraping her skin. She brought her hand to her chin, watched him return to the cot, flopping down upon it.  
“We will return to Jotunheim on the morrow.”  
She set the remains of her meal down on the ground, her appetite destroyed, closing her eyes to block him from her sight. Her decision was made. Somehow, she had to undo what she'd done. 

 

Colin paced the palace halls, desperate to avoid contact with everyone, especially Loki's family. After Brenna's insistent questions following the incident in the bedchamber, he'd excused himself saying he was going to take a round, clear his head, another lie since he didn't think his head would ever be clear again. The Jotunns had Asgard where they wanted it and so everyone was relatively safe for the time being, strange as it might sound. Safe enough, in fact, that clean up of the battlefield outside the gates had begun albeit with loud lamenting from the families of the departed who walked beside the wagons and litters upon which the dead were borne through the city gates, some of whom had to be chipped from their tombs of ice. As he stood watching from the ramparts of the city walls that morning, he'd spied a familiar face among the soldiers. Lily's husband, Garik had survived the onslaught. He too had donned armor and joined in to defend against the Jotunns initial attack. Colin had considered going to speak with Garik but his resolve had crumbled at the thought of facing so much death, such deep, heartbreaking sorrow.   
His wanderings at last brought him to Eidra's bedchamber door where he stopped to listen. All was quiet. Steeling himself, he knocked, waited.  
The door creaked open a bit and Helgi's eyes appeared along the crack, “Who is it?”  
“It's Colin.”  
Helgi pulled the door open, ushering him inside, “Come in, my son. What troubles you? 'Tis late.”  
Colin looked to the bed where Eidra lay, “I was...I wanted to talk to Eidra again.”  
Helgi peered at Colin then at Eidra, curled up into a ball in the bed, dark circles beneath her closed eyes. Helgi lowered her voice then, taking him by the arm, “I fear she will waste away. She would not allow the children into the bedchamber today to see her, wailed at the mere mention of their names. Cait and Astrid are heartbroken, desperate to be with their mother.”  
“Aye, I was with them earlier.”  
“Oh Colin, You have a large heart,” she hugged his arm, “The dear babes need all the love they can get right now. To see such tragedy at their tender age...”  
Colin patted Helgi's hand, “Children are more resilient than you might think. Once this is over, they'll bury it deep. It's the older ones I worry about.”  
Helgi nodded, “Brenna and Fen, I see their distress, particularly Brenna. She feels the burden of responsibility more than the others because she is the eldest.”  
“This isn't her fault.”  
“No indeed,” Helgi sighed, “But still she believes had she not let the Midgardians use her necklace to make those portals, none of this would have happened.”  
“The matter was out of her hands. I'll talk to her later,” Colin tilted his head toward the bed, “Is Eidra up for conversation, do you think?”  
“You might talk to her all you wish but she has said little since...,” Helgi's face crumpled, “Oh dear....since her world turned upside down.”  
Colin rested his hand on Helgi's shoulder, bemused at how solid the old woman still seemed, “Well maybe I can set her upright.”  
Helgi shook her head, “I am not certain anything short of a miracle will restore her but I beseech you, whatever you say, give her hope.”  
She guided Colin to the chair at Eidra's bedside.  
“Eidra?”  
Nothing. For one horrific moment, he stared at her form, searching for movement until she opened her eyes, slowly, as if awakening from a dream.  
“Eidra? It's Colin.”  
Her eyes slid up to his, full of pain, grief, and he was at a loss. He'd had the words in his head, had walked the halls to her room knowing what to say to her but now, sitting here before one of the noblest creatures he'd ever met, he was struck dumb.  
Colin felt the tears spring forth unbidden onto his cheeks and he brushed them away with the sleeve of his tunic. He'd never felt more inadequate than he did at this moment as he took a deep breath and bent forward.  
“I came here to see you, intending to apologize, to say I'm sorry about what's happened but sorry will never be enough, not even if I lived a hundred lifetimes.”  
She closed her eyes, burrowing further beneath the coverlet.  
“...and I accept that. But I'm going to make things right, I swear....”  
Her hand snaked out from beneath the coverlet and he grasped it like a lifeline, “I'll restore Asgard to the Asgardians....”  
“You are but one man,” she whispered, “There is naught you can do against....” here she faltered. When she regained her voice it was thick with tears, “Against....my husband....and his people.”  
White hot anger flared within him as he held her hand, “I can and I will. Trust me.”  
He glanced up at Helgi who was sitting before the fire staring into the flames. The last thing he wanted to do was announce to the entire realm what he was. There was but one person to whom he could reveal himself. If he was to make a stand, he had no other choice.  
Eidra let his hand go, “I cannot bear to lose another soul to this tragedy. Stay out of harm's way.”  
Colin paused, cleared his throat, “I think we're all in harm's way, Milady.”  
“The children need you now that they are alone,” her voice was barely audible, “Promise me you will protect them.”  
“I can promise to protect them,” with great effort, he rose from the chair, “but they need their mother far more than they need a junior agent from Helen's Bay.”  
Eidra closed her eyes, covered her face with her hands, “I cannot...”  
“You can and you will,” he bent down to stroke her hair, his hand hovering over her head a moment before he pulled it back, turned away and strode from the room past a startled Helgi.  
“Odin's beard!” Helgi dropped her knitting from her lap as she rose to her feet, “Wherever is he going?”  
She looked across the room to Eidra's bed and put a hand to her chest.   
Eidra was sitting up.

 

Colin reached underneath his cot to pull out his satchel, grateful that, for the time being, the large bedchamber was empty. When Brenna had insisted they bring their cots into one of the large rooms reserved for visiting dignitaries so as to remain together in case of further trouble, he'd agreed just to soothe her fears. Now he pulled the cot closer to the low burning fire, tossed a couple logs from the wood box beside the hearth upon the flames. Sitting down on the cot then, he opened the satchel and drew out his tablet, pressing the front of the screen. When the screen flashed to life, he was dismayed to see the battery indicator had less than half its charge left.   
“Should have set up the solar charger, damn it!” he muttered to himself, his words sounding harsh in the silence of the room. Out in the corridor, footsteps hurried past the door.  
He sat staring at the screen, feeling the room grow warmer as the flames began to scurry along the wood. At last, he brought up his journal and began to write.


	91. 91

Eris was exhausted. They'd entered Jotunheim through the hidden rift in the forest, starting the trek back to Menyir's fortress across the frozen landscape. She'd tried to keep pace with the warriors but she was far outdistanced in a short time. Shivering with the cold, she'd stood there waiting to see if anyone noticed her absence. True to form, Menyir, Loki and the contingent of warriors paid her little mind as they continued on toward the distant towers looming over the horizon, luminous with cold blue light. The only member of the party to notice before they'd gone very far was Sulyir who returned to fetch her, hauling her onto his back to carry her the rest of the way. For some distance, his stony silence doused all attempts at small talk though she wasn't sure whether his reticence was due to their proximity to the group or simple frustration.   
At last she lay her cheek against the hood of his great cloak, “I'm sorry you had to come get me. I'll never get used to this cold.”  
“You should not be here,” he muttered, “This was a fool's endeavor from the start.”  
“Hmmph, a bit too late to worry about that. This was your idea from the get go.”  
She felt him stiffen, “I am cursed to destroy all I touch. Must you remind me of my error?”  
“What error,” she shrugged, “You've gotten what you wanted. You're the golden boy, back home in Jotunheim from the conquest of Asgard with two great big war prizes. You're a hero.”  
“And 'tis you who will suffer for my selfishness.”  
Eris frowned to herself, “How do you figure? I'm the mistress of a prince....or I will be with a bit more effort. Why should you care?”  
Sulyir glanced over his shoulder, twirling about like a lumbering ballerina until he realized he would not be able to look her in the eye and she stifled a welcome giggle, a momentary vision rising to the surface of her mind. The two of them lying in her bed over the Oak and Thistle, laughing in the glow of the lantern light, running her fingers through his shaggy mop of dark blond hair, the memory so poignant she bit her lip to stifle the angry tears forming in her eyes.  
“If I did not care, would I have protected you? Would I have convinced Menyir to listen to us?”  
“There was no us, remember? You threw me out of the room while the two of you had your little parlay and by then the ball was already rolling.”  
“I know! I KNOW!” Sulyir growled, “This is my fault!”  
Up ahead, the group had slowed. Menyir and Loki stood watching until Sulyir and Eris drew even with them.  
“Is there a problem, Sulyir?” Menyir purred, “You seem quite put out at the moment.”  
“No, my King,” Sulyir rasped, giving a short bow which brought Eris's head up to stare at Menyir.  
“Very good. Now put the Midgardian woman down and let her walk. She must grow accustomed to this world on her own. The bridge is not far now.”  
Eris shuddered, recalling the bottomless chasm as her feet touched the snow covered ground. When the contingent started forward again, she proceeded to follow suit, expecting Sulyir to leave her to bring up the rear. However, he stayed even with her, taking smaller steps, his former silence returned with a vengeance.  
Muffled footfalls were soon replaced with the heavy clink clank of metal on stone. She looked straight ahead, refusing to so much as turn her head to catch a glimpse of the endless void until they had reached the other end of the bridge.  
There were shouts and cries of joy from the windows, the walkways, towers when at last they reached the iron gates of the citadel. The gates rumbled like thunder as they swung wide to let forth battalions of fellow warriors, servants, women, smaller than their male counterparts, all coming to greet the returning conquerors, surrounding Eris, poking and prodding at her, laughing until Menyir clapped his hands together and the throngs parted a pathway into the fortress.  
Eris hesitated, hoping at first to remain by Sulyir but now Loki would have none of it, catching her at the back while they filtered through the tall archway, hurrying her along further into the recesses of the fortress..  
“Move your feet, wench! I desire a full chalice and a place to rest my head.”  
Far from the loud clamor of the Jotunn mob, out from beneath the oppressive eye of Menyir, through the corridors they hurried, her eyes catching and holding on to little details, mental breadcrumbs with which to find her way back to the beginning of this insane asylum.  
They stopped before a set of carved granite doors which opened upon cue.   
“My prince,”a young Jotunn servant boy bowed deeply, backing away from the entrance as Loki passed, oblivious to his presence. In contrast, when Eris passed by the servant, he regarded her with barely suppressed disgust and so when Loki shoved the door shut, it was with no small measure of delight that she watched his face disappear from view.  
Her delight was short lived however as she turned to face the room and spied Loki, his arms outstretched at his sides, glaring at her.  
“Don't tell me they do Tai Chi here too, shit.”   
His arms begin to tremble.   
“Undo my belt.”  
She stared at him for a long moment “Excuse me?”  
“I wish to retire. You will attend to me. Undo my belt,” he growled.  
_“Make him feel at ease!”_ screamed the voice in her head, _“shut your goddamn mouth and dance to his tune!”_  
She walked up to him and began to work out the knot in the braided cord, his loud sigh hastening her efforts until finally she was able to ease it from around his waist.   
“Okay, now what do I do with it?”  
It was an honest question but he grabbed her arm, dragging her across the room to a door set into the rough hewn wall.  
“Here is where all garments are kept. You will learn where to....” he paused, the expression on his face fading from anger to confusion as his scarlet eyes scanned the room, looking for what, she didn't know.  
But she had an idea.  
“Having another episode?”  
His hand slipped away from her arm, “Epi....”  
“You're a bit glitchy tonight,” she leaned over to stare up at him, “You need to have a sit down.”  
Over the past couple of days,though they were still present, the torrent of visions had slowed to brief flashes, evidenced by his responding snarl.   
“Do not presume to tell me what I need,” his hand was back on her arm, “Do as I say or suffer for your disobedience!”  
“And risk pissing off your brother? He charged you with taking care of me! If yo....urgk!”  
There was no time to react as the palm of his other hand connected squarely with her sternum, sending her to slide across the floor, skidding to a halt beneath the blue stone set into the wall.  
“Menyir charged me with your care!” he roared, “He did not dictate to me how such a charge was to be carried out! Now rise and continue your chore in silence lest you lose your tongue for your impudence!”  
She sat up, glaring at his back as he unfastened the cloak about his neck. She was returning to Asgard even if it meant spending the rest of her life in prison.

 

Simon sat in his reconstructed tent, smiling at the stack of crates beside the entrance flap. When Menyir and his contingent had departed for Jotunheim, Simon was quick to discover that, save for the lead warrior, Hobnir, he was basically in command of the entire encampment. He'd no idea what garbage Eris had fed them but so far at each turn, his word was accepted as law by the remaining Jotunn warriors. He had freedom to roam about the compound, albeit under the watchful eye of the guards. He had put Kenworth in charge of getting the tents raised again, a senior agent, Miss Carter-Boylan was seeing to the mess hall.   
As soon as Simon had a free moment, however, he was off to Longhouse one on a mission.  
When they had first arrived in Asgard with the supplies to assemble the portals, Tony had taken him aside to where sat one large wooden crate surrounded by ten or so smaller crates. He'd guided Simon over to the larger crate and told him to peek inside.  
_“What do you see?”_  
Simon shrugged, _“Nothing, really. It looks like metal....steel.”  
“Exactly. It's a steel bunker. Not just any steel either, triple thick plates lined with nanofiber.”  
“Whatever do we need this for. Are you not telling me something?”_  
Tony had laughed, _“I wasn't telling you something up until now, pay attention. This is my own personal brand of insurance and seeing as I couldn't get Fury to approve Banner to come along as an assistant, I'm naming you as beneficiary. See the little baby crates all around the big daddy crate? Well the big daddy crate is going into a specially dug hole beneath the longhouse floor...”  
“And the Asgardians, they're not at all going to question why you want to install a steel bunker below the longhouse?”  
“They already have. I told them it's where I'm going to store some dangerous chemicals and stuff.”  
“Stuff?”  
“Yeah, the little baby crates aren't as innocent at they look. Each crate contains enough C-4 to level these longhouses. Every agent here knows how to wire up the detonators, it's part of their training so you won't be lacking for help.”  
“Wait a minute! What....how did you...what are you thinking? We were told no incendiaries. Bloody hell, we had to beg for the rubber bullets. How did you manage this and why?”_  
Tony sat down on one of the smaller crates, _“I told the pencil pushers back home the same thing I told the Asgardians, I needed safe storage space. Come on, I was only half lying. It is safe. As for the C-4, this came in my own personal caravan. The whyfor is called playing the odds, splitting up your eggs between baskets or what have you.”_  
Simon had stared at him until he waved his hands in the air, _“Okay it's a fail safe. If anything happens, my suits aren't equipped with portal generators, which is a thought mind you, and I hate being caught with my britches down.”  
“Right but why are you telling me about this? I'm not an agent.”  
“No, but you are someone I trust and that's enough.”  
“But why do we need any of it? You said yourself that nothing's going to go wrong.”_  
Here Tony had fixed him with a hard stare, _“If you forget everything else I tell you, remember this. It's the agenda you don't plan for that will always fuck you up.”_  
Simon sat a bit straighter on his cot, pride swelling his chest. Tony had trusted him with a secret that was going to make things a whole lot more difficult for the Jotunns.  
“Mister Foster?” came a whisper outside the tent. It was Kenworth.  
“Come in, come in,” Simon stood from the cot as Kenworth ducked beneath the flap.  
“What did you need, sir?”  
Simon spied faces peering into the tent behind Kenworth.  
“Bring them all in, hurry.”  
Kenworth stepped aside, allowing Agents Carter-Boylan, Benlaw and two other agents Simon wasn't familiar with, file into the tent.  
“In the beginning of this project, Mister Stark had the wisdom to prepare for just such an incident as the one in which we are now faced with. He entrusted me to safeguard his secret and through his foresight, we have the ability to turn the tables on our captors when the time comes.”  
Kenworth glanced at the crates to his left, “With the C-4 in those crates?”  
Simon stared at him for a long minute, “How? How did you know....what...”  
“I know what C-4 smells like.”  
Simon sniffed the air, noting the faint odor of motor oil, “Ah, I hadn't considered..”  
“But Thor surrendered Asgard to the Jotunns because they've got that blue ice box,” Benlaw formed a square with his hands, “Blowing shit up is only going to piss them off isn't it?”  
Simon thought of the runes back at the palace with Colin, “The Jotunns won't always have the upper hand, trust me. We just have to be ready for that moment.”  
The agents looked at one another until finally Kenworth stepped forward, “Okay, chief. Tell us what to do.”

 

Bruna heard the footsteps outside the door, looked to the children asleep upon their beds. When the door swung open, she had to clamp her hand across her mouth to stifle her scream. Eidra eased herself into the room, gently shutting the door behind her.  
“Milady!” Bruna whispered, hurrying up to her with a deep curtsey, “It is wonderful to see you. The children will be over the moon! They have been inconsolable! Shall I wake them?”  
“No, no do not disturb their dreams for they are far preferable to reality. Let them sleep. I will sit and wait for them to waken if it is all the same with you?”  
Bruna scurried over to the fireplace, pulling a cushioned chair about for Eidra, “Oh by all means, Milady.”  
Eidra eased herself into the chair, wrapping her shawl tighter around her shoulders as Bruna set a heavy fur robe across her legs.  
“The nursery is powerful drafty this time of year. Can I get you anything, Milady? A posset, some mulled wine?”  
Eidra shook her head, “I fear I could not stomach it. No, Bruna, thank you. All I need is to be here with my children.”  
Bruna sat down opposite Eidra and picked up her sewing again, glancing every so often at Eidra's face, illuminated by the firelight. She seemed to have aged ten seasons in the space of a few days. She was gaunt, her cheeks hollow, dark circles had taken residence beneath her sad eyes. Bruna frowned to herself staring into the dancing flames of the fireplace. There was little that would affect a cure for Eidra's condition save one thing. She needed her family returned to her, whole again.

 

“Barukh ata Adonai Eloheinu, Melekh ha'olam, hagomel lahayavim tovot, sheg'molani kol tov”  
Colin had been on his way to find Brenna but the words drifting out of the palace library as he passed by made him stop. He stood there inside the tall archway watching Mister Mindel who was standing at the end of one of the long tables in the center of the massive chamber, his hands held high, eyes closed. Seated on either side of him were a handful of men, mostly of advanced age though there were a couple of younger boys as well, the whole scene illuminated by the light from a multi-tiered candelabra in the middle of the table.  
At a mumured “Amen” from the men around him, Mister Mindel opened his eyes and gave them a gentle smile.  
“Good, good.”  
Colin cleared his throat, bringing Mister Mindel's attention to bear upon him.  
“Mister Denehy! Come in, come in!” Mister Mindel waved him over, “Have you come bearing good news?”  
“Depends on what your idea of good news is Mister Mindel.”  
“Avrum, please. No need to be so formal. Sit with us a while. We were just praying.”  
“Praying?” Colin regarded the men who had now turned to face him.  
“Oh yes. In the time I've spent here in Asgard expanding my mind, it would seem I've expanded a few myself.” Mister Mindel clapped his hands in delight, “Or in the very least I've given them something to think about.”  
Colin gave a slow nod, grimaced,“I'm sorry yer return to Earth has been delayed because of this incident.” The word, “incident” seemed almost an insult to their present situation.  
“Sorry? So who's complaining? Out of our group, I can think of a mere handful ready to return to the sickness that is terra firma. Even Garth has found his calling in the stables. He loves working with the horses. He won't get that chance back home. We are all content here, well mostly save for this disagreement with the...Jotunns?” the men nodded their assent, “Jotunns, yes. Now please join us, tell us what news you have. Sit.”  
“I can't,” Colin scanned the nearly empty library, “I have to find Brenna.”  
Colin pivoted about, ready to leave, paused again, “Avrum, what were you saying before I came in?”  
“Ah, it's a blessing. The Birkhat Hagomel is said after one survives illness or danger. I woke up this morning still alive so I think it counts.”  
“It does,” Colin smiled for the first time in what felt like forever, “Can you say that prayer for a Gentile?”  
“Of course, my friend, God is there for us all, Jew, Christian, Gentile, Asgardian....”  
“Say it for me then, will you?” he called over his shoulder as he disappeared into the corridor.


	92. 92

The night had grown old by the time Colin returned to the bedchamber he'd been given and flopped down upon the bed. He reached beneath the frame, feeling the canvas flap of Simon's backpack. The Uruz was still inside. He could, in all actuality, simply take the Uruz without Brenna knowing and maybe it would be safer in the long run but he wanted to talk to her before he left, tell her he was the Protector, reassure her everything was going to be alright. There was also the distinct possibility she wasn't going to believe him. He rolled over onto his back, laughing. He wasn't sure he believed him.... 

 

“Colin! Colin where have you been?”  
He opened his eyes to see Brenna and Chase standing over him.   
“We have been all over this palace searching for you this evening. Tony wants to see you!”  
Colin sat up, rubbed his eyes. How long had he been asleep? “What time is it, fer fuck sake?”  
“Almost midnight,” Chase tapped his wrist, “Come on, Mister Stark has a plan. We're going to try to sneak out of the city, make it to the encampment.”  
Colin shook his head, “Now wait a tick. Then what are you going to do? You don't have any weapons.”  
“I can procure weapons from the armory if need be,” Brenna huffed, “You know I am proficient with a bow.”  
“Against the likes of those giants? You'd be walking into a slaughter.”  
“Stark said he's got an ace up his sleeve, whatever that is,” Chase shrugged, “He claims he's not waiting around for some legendary strong man to show up from the cosmic circus. He's talking about leveling the encampment.”  
Colin swung his feet out over the floor, “And what about the agents and technicians still being held hostage? There's also the matter of the Bifrost. The Jotunns control that too. You take out the portal and yer liable to find a giant icicle shoved up yer arse from the cavalry. How would you get out of the city in the first place. We're surrounded by Menyir's goons.”  
Brenna wrapped her arms about her waist, “There is a way to leave the palace without using the main gates. In my father's old bedchamber, near his wardrobe is a hidden door. It leads down a tunnel to the eastern wall of the city. The Jotunn forces are concentrated at the main gates with perimeter patrols. We may be able to slip away undetected.”  
“Wait, what's this “we” shite? Yer not stepping foot out of this palace!” Colin stood up.  
“ 'Twas my necklace brought this upon Asgard. I should make things right, would you not do the same?”  
Colin shot Chase a look, willing him to protest but he stood there gazing at Brenna in adoration.  
“It was more than the necklace, more than the portal, this was no one's fault. Chase, go fetch Stark and bring him here to my room.”  
Chase glanced Colin then to Brenna who nodded and he was off like a shot out the bedchamber door. Colin dropped to his knees beside the bed and yanked Simon's backpack from underneath the frame, frantically clawing at the strap.  
“You've got that boy wrapped don't you,” he grunted, “Damn buckle!”  
“Colin, you did not answer me. Would you not try to make things......what are you doing?”  
“I've not much time to explain this, Bren. I want to be long gone when Stark gets here. I need to use the Uruz but I didn't want to take it without yer permission,” he pulled the necklace from the depths of the pack and held it up to her.  
“To what purpose? You are not returning to Midgard are you? Tony said all options must be exhausted first before we open up our realm to your military forces.”  
“Fer feck sake, Brenna. I'm not going to Earth,” he slid the necklace over his neck before she could reach for it, “I'm going to end this conflict. I'm going to Jotunheim, find your Da and the casket and bring them back to Asgard.”  
“What? Why? Are they not still in this realm?”  
Colin walked to the chair in front of the fireplace, lifted his cloak and satchel from the back, fishing out the halogen clip to drop in his pocket, “No, they've already returned home.”  
“How do you know.........Oh, Odin wept! How could I have been so blind?” her hands flew to her mouth, “When you awoke from your dream speaking the tongue of the ancients. But it cannot be! You are a Midgardian agent, a friend, you hail from the Land of Eire....”  
Colin stared at the floor, afraid to meet her eyes, “It doesn't make sense does it? It didn't make sense to me either but there you are. It's up to you whether you choose to believe me or not.”  
He felt her hand at his chin, tipping his face up to hers, “You became a part of our family. You were able to befriend one of the most difficult men of this realm, you are on the cusp of becoming a citizen of Asgard. Mama always claimed you were different, special though I doubt she could have imagined the accuracy of her statement.”  
There was the sound of a slamming door somewhere in the corridor and upon impulse, Colin shoved his satchel into Brenna's arms.  
“Take care of this until I come back. My journal and a few other things are inside. If you have to tell them where I've gone, don't tell them what I am. I've a ma and da on Earth whom I don't want subjected to the agency's brand of questioning. Try to keep them away from the encampment but if you can't, try to slow them down. Tell them to wait for the right time.”  
He lifted the Uruz from his chest, fumbled it, lifted it again, “Jotunheim,”  
“Colin! Please be careful!”  
“Take care of yer Ma,” he closed his eyes, trying to block out the images that flashed through his mind once more. The footsteps were outside the door now. He stared into the gray blackness of the portal, took a deep breath and stepped through. 

 

Her feet were numb, painfully so, the discomfort drilling into her head, weakening her concentration as she hurried about the halls of the fortress with its vaulted ceilings and dimly lit recesses searching for Sulyir. What if he wasn't in the fortress at all but somewhere amongst the dwellings scattered about the narrow valley she'd spied through the fortress windows? During their trysts, he'd not once mentioned having a family back home, whether deliberately or because he was truly alone, she didn't know. Of course there was the possibility he'd been lying but she shoved that concern out of her mind. She only knew she wasn't returning to Asgard without him, not if she could help it. She stopped, backing into a niche in the wall where she could rest and think.  
She'd waited for some time before at last slipping out of the room to search for Sulyir, only moving off the fur covered pallet Loki had remanded her to when she was certain he was deep asleep.  
She sat there, rubbing her arms to encourage blood flow. What had Sulyir said to her when she'd been made to go with Loki?  
_“I will not be far from you.”_  
Had he meant literally or figuratively? No, he was a literal man. She'd lost count of the times she'd had to explain to him something she'd said, not because he was stupid but because he was clueless about metaphors. Nope, when he said he'd not be far, he meant it. Now what was far to a Jotunn? A few rooms away? Over in the next village? In the same realm?  
Two warriors passed her on their way through the hall and she tried to get a good glimpse of their faces, swearing to herself at the horrendous blue light present all about the fortress. She was growing tired. If she stayed where she was, they'd find her frozen to death come morning. She longed for the warm robes she'd left on the pallet, cursed herself for not bringing one of them with her. A few more warriors, accompanied by a couple of smaller females appeared, laughing, chattering in that strange language as they moved off down the corridor. They were nearly out of earshot when she heard it. One of the warriors had said Sulyir's name. She stumbled out of the little niche, hurrying on unsteady feet to follow them. There was little else she could think of to do. Through the cavernous halls she followed the group until her legs ached from the strain of trying to keep up with their long strides. As last, they stopped before a heavy door, one of them banging on it with a fist. Slowly the door creaked open and Sulyir's face appeared from the gloom. She had to cover her mouth with her hands to keep from squealing. The men spoke to Sulyir for a few moments, quite obviously trying to draw him out of his quarters as they tugged on his arm but he shoved them off, waved his hands about in wild gestures. Damnit, what was he saying?   
She surveyed the route to his room. She would have to zig zag about the members of the group and try to slip by Sulyir before he closed his door again. She edged forward, keeping close to the wall, freezing in place when one of the women began to dance about while the warriors laughed, pointed to her. At one point, the woman's hand passed inches in front of Eris's face. She kept moving closer toward Sulyir but before she could reach the door, the men waved at Sulyir and started down the hall again. Time was up. Amassing what little strength she had left, she sprinted toward the closing door, slipping inside a moment before it slammed shut.  
Sulyir had retreated to his bed and was now sitting down with his head in his hands. Eris looked about the room. It was a spartan affair with a stone table a carved stone stool and a tall carved recess filled with shelves upon which sat piles of clothing. A blue stone lantern glittered atop the table. She stood there wrestling with herself. Would he return her to Loki out of loyalty to his king? Even if he didn't, he might refuse to go with her. Perhaps he'd send her off on her own. A rush of adrenaline kick started her heart. She could never find her way to the rift alone, she'd die on the frozen tundra. She'd die here too either from the cold or because she couldn't shut her mouth. She drew close to him, ready to step back if he stood quickly.  
“Sulyir?”  
His head snapped up, “Eris?”  
She let herself grow solid, glad of the great smile on his face even as it faded, “What are you doing here? You should be with the prince!”  
“I'd rather be here with you.”  
Sulyir stood up, “You do not belong with me. You do not belong to me. If they find us together it could mean death for us both!”  
“Why? Because I'm the Prince's concubine? Bullshit, I'm no better than a servant to him. I'd get my ass beat for being out of earshot when he wanted something but that's about it. Things didn't work out like I thought they would so I'm heading back home,” She waited, could see him wrestling with himself.  
“Very well. I will bring you to the rift but we must move swiftly before you are discovered missing. Menyir believes you are too valuable to let go.”  
“If I wanted out of this stone prison, I could have wandered about all night until I found it. I wasn't looking for you to help me escape,” Eris murmured, “I want you to come with me to Asgard. Hell, maybe even Midgard if we could swing it.”  
At any other time, the look on Sulyir's face might have seemed comic but Eris's heart skipped a beat when he shook his head.  
“Leave the realm?”  
“Yes, leave the realm.... with me.”  
Sulyir rubbed his mouth, stared about the room, “And if we were to escape, what then? What if Menyir was to come searching for you?”  
“Then we run until we find someone with bigger guns or better magic. All I know is that I'm not staying with that megalomaniac and his twisted brother. Whether or not you come with me, I'm still leaving,” she turned toward the door, praying with all her might that she'd made the right choice. With each footstep, her heart dropped further and further until it seemed to sit atop her stomach.   
“Eris, wait!”  
She stopped, glanced over her shoulder to see him hurrying toward her.  
“I will go with you, the gods forgive me! I will follow wherever you lead me. I have been wretched ever since I handed you over to Prince Loki.”  
“That makes two of us,” she stole a glance up at the door handle, eye level with her, “Besides I don't think I could have opened this door by myself.”  
Sulyir chuckled at her coy smile, “The door poses no problem but we must get out of the fortress without being caught.”  
“Leave that to me,” Eris giggled as she faded away.

 

  
“Tell me you're lying!”   
Brenna winced at Tony's sharp tone, “I cannot. He told me everything was going to be alright and that he would bring back my father and the casket.”  
“So you let him take your necklace and whisk himself away to Jotunheim?” Chase cried, “That's suicide! What if the Jotunns get hold of that necklace? They won't need the portal or the bridge!”  
“How could you believe him? How could you let him go?” Tony had started to pace the floor, “Damnit, Brenna. He's a field agent, a diplomat. What does he expect to do, negotiate them to death?”  
Angry tears stung Brenna's eyes as she bit her lip. She'd promised Colin she wouldn't say anything to anyone, “And how do you know he will not do what he says?”  
Tony strode through the room, throwing aside the heavy balcony drapes, stopping at the railing to point at the glow from bonfires which had been set up in the fields outside the city walls, “Because he's from northern Ireland and he will freeze to death just like those soldiers out there, just like any one of us when Menyir uses that casket on him. He's lost his mind. He's been here in Asgard too long.”  
Brenna put her hands to her mouth, “I am sorry. What could I say to him?”  
“How about no?” Tony slapped his hands on the marble railing, breath ghosting in the frigid  
air, “Okay, alright. We can't call his cell and tell him to come home. He's on his own and we have to get to the encampment. You said you have a way out of the palace?”  
“Yes,” Brenna hurried to the bedchamber door, “Follow me.”

 

“This was my father's old room,” Brenna whispered, “He showed me a hidden door near the wardrobe which leads to the passages below the city to the outer walls.”  
“Your mother is on the other side of that door, Bren,” Chase nudged her, “Along with Helgi. What are we going to do, excuse our way on through?”  
“They will be asleep by now. Nothing short of a miracle will wake Helgi.”  
“Okay, door beside the wardrobe. Out the passage through to the city walls. Got it,” Tony took her by the shoulders, moving her to the side, “Wish us luck.”  
“Indeed I shall,” Brenna muttered, “For you do not know where to push upon the wall for the door to open, nor do you know which passageway to take for the outer wall and they are numerous. You could become lost.”  
“I've got a good head for direction. I'm more concerned with those blue bastards keeping watch around the perimeter of the city walls. No, you're safer here in the palace.”  
Brenna shook her head, her hand stealing to Chase's, “I refuse to send either of you off to the gods know what while I stay here like a princess in swoon.”  
“But you are a princess, honey. That's the beauty of it all. We're going to try and set your kingdom to rights,” Tony patted her shoulder but she shrugged it off.  
“A princess I am but a poor one if I send innocent men to defend my own realm. No, I will accompany you now mark me well. The Jotunns have set their guards at strategic places, the doors leading into the south courtyard near the arena, the main gates into the city, the west gate leading into the city fields. They have patrols walking the walls but they are infrequent at best. All we need do is watch for the patrols when we reach the outer wall.   
“And if I lose you,” Tony hissed, “What do I tell your mother?”  
“Tell her I went with you for the good of Asgard. It is no lie,” Brenna bent down to peer through the keyhole and blanched.   
“I do not see my mother in bed.”  
“Is she somewhere in the room, on the balcony maybe?” Chase put a hand to her back.  
“I cannot see. I can only see the bed.”  
“Well, I guess we'll find out,” Tony gestured toward the door, “Go on, get it over with.”  
She eased the door open ever so slowly. Helgi was slumped in the chair before the fireplace, her slack features cast in an unearthly red glow.  
After a quick scan of the room revealed her mother was nowhere to be found, Brenna waved them forward. On foot they'd be lucky to reach the encampment by dawn but they had to try. Brenna slunk up to the bedside, lifting the lantern from the side table, lighting it with trembling hands. When they reached the wardrobe, Brenna panicked, wracking her brains for the spot her father had showed her countless times before. She looked down, saw the worn spot on the wall where it met the floor and smiled, pushing it gently with the toe of her boot. There was a muffled click as the door swung open to reveal a black, damp passageway. She ushered the men inside, shutting the door behind her. In the bedchamber, Helgi snorted, adjusting her position as her knitting slipped to the floor and all was quiet again.


	93. 93

The Uruz had set him on a barren plain. The overcast skies combined with the stark white snow stretching as far as the eye could see, afforded him a bit of ambient lighting for which he was grateful. Out in the open as he was, any artificial light would likely be seen from miles away so the less he had to use the halogen clip, the better. Though the air was biting cold, he felt relatively comfortable, whether it be from the runes or the heart attack's worth of adrenaline coursing through his body at the moment, he was unsure. He pivoted about in a circle, looking for signs of civilization such as they were but could see nothing against the black mountains dominating the horizon.  
“I don't know which way to go. I've not got a fecking roadmap, so,” he muttered.  
He stopped at each point, north, south, east, west until at last he threw his hands in the air.  
“Feck it! Alright, they want crazy, they've got it. Show me the way to Menyir!”  
His voice sounded weak, swallowed up by the snow and ice. He gave a rueful chuckle as he looked about once more and the laughter died in his throat. Upon the horizon stood the silhouette of a medieval looking castle outlined in blue fire. The harder he stared, the more faded it became until it was only an afterimage before his eyes but there was no time to wonder at the phenomenon, no time to thank the gods, he was on a mission.  
He started off at a lope, hoping he would reach his destination before daybreak. 

 

As Brenna had predicted, all was quiet when they reached the end of the tunnel. They'd had to shove at the door with all their might before it finally gave way, carving an arc into the snow piled high against the perimeter wall. Brenna was ready to sprint toward the tree line as soon as they stepped outside but Tony held her back, pointing out that although he didn't think the Jotunns were very smart, they might notice a new path and trace it to the door. The last thing they wanted was a Jotunn patrol chasing them down or taking their escape out on her family. Instead, they had picked their way along the path created by the patrols until they found another path canting away from the palace walls toward the woods which made up the limits of the city. Hurrying to reach the cover of the forest, they trudged through the snow as fast as they could under the conditions.   
The slog through the woods to the main road had been exhausting and time and again Brenna wished she had the Uruz with her. When they at last reached the road, she stood there bent at the waist, panting, her hands upon her knees.  
“How can the two of you not be spent?” she gasped, “I could lie down here by the road to sleep and very happily so.”  
“And freeze to death, best case scenario,” Tony patted her back, “I thought you Asgardians were like Amazons or something. Myself, I take a run every morning to clear my head for the day's events. Keeps up my stamina, my endurance, Chase here is a young buck. I don't have to ask what keeps him going and as for you, I told you, you're a princess and princess's don't go gallivanting all over the countryside trying to play the heroine.”  
Brenna forced herself upright, shrugging off his hand, “And I have informed you, Mister Stark, that I would be a poor excuse for a noble e'er I elected to sit in my chambers wringing my hands with worry until your return. Come, we have a way to go!”  
She started off down the road between the frozen ruts, missing the wink Tony shot at Chase as they hurried to catch up.

 

Simon held up his trembling hands and smiled. He was fighting exhaustion so thorough he'd fallen asleep on his feet, catching himself once or twice before he tumbled to the floor of longhouse two but sleep was the furthest thing from his mind now. They'd done it. Kenworth, Carter-Boylan, Benlaw and a few other agents had laced every available surface in Longhouse two with the C-4 charges, hiding them underneath tables, along the portal base, beneath the computer banks, at the base of the walls. They'd even set them all around the massive solar cell banks. Before they parted ways for the remainder of the evening to get some sleep, Kenworth had taken him aside.  
_“When the time comes to blow this place, we're going to have to be a considerable distance away from the encampment which means we're going to have to make a run for it beforehand. I've rigged up four remote detonators, one for you, one for Carter Boylan and one for Benlaw.. If we can't manage with three chances to hit the trigger, we deserve to get caught, Upon that note, we should divide our people into three groups. The Jotunn contingent guarding the camp numbers forty. We are a hundred fifty. That's roughly three to one, not great odds being that we're unarmed I know but if we scatter in all directions, they're going to be scrambling to stop us. When we're clear, one of us will have to detonate the charges....”_  
It was late when Simon finally lay his head down on his pillow, happy in the knowledge he could at last rest even if morning wasn't far off. He closed his eyes, sinking into a light doze only to be interrupted seconds later by angry whispers outside his tent. He lay, frozen to his cot, staring up at the tarpaulin ceiling, listening.  
“Well how the hell should I know where he is? They don't have mailboxes outside do they? What are we supposed to do, peek inside each one?”  
Stifling a scream, Simon sat up, dropped to the ground and crept over to the tent flap. Across the way he could just make out three figures crouched down in the shadows between Kenworth's and Benlaw's tents.  
“Mister Stark,” he whispered, “Please tell me it's you.”  
The figure in the middle rose to his feet just at Kenworth stepped outside of his tent, long handled flashlight raised above his head.   
“Hey, hey it's me, Jesus!” Tony hissed, his hands in the air, “Chase and Brenna are with me.”  
Simon squeezed his eyes shut, saying a silent prayer as he waved them across to his tent, “Come on, get inside for the love of God.”  
Tony, Chase, and Brenna ducked through the tent flap, followed by a confused Kenworth.  
“What in hell were you thinking coming out here?” Simon cried, “I left you all safe at the palace. Are you bollocking insane?”  
“According to my psychiatrist, yes and just a reminder, nowhere is safe at this point. That's where I come in. I came out here to enact plan B,” Tony sat down at Simon's writing desk, “And this is the thanks I get?”  
Simon sat down on his cot. He could feel the giggles rising to the surface. He bit his tongue, concerned that if he started, he might never stop.  
“Plan B, you mean the C-4? That plan B?”  
Tony held a finger to his lips, nodded toward Brenna who was now staring at him, “Yes but maybe we should discuss this in a more cozy setting?”  
“No need to, sir,” Kenworth spoke up, “The charges are already set.”  
Tony stared at Kenworth for a minute before turning back to Simon, “Excuse me? You mean to say you took the C-4 that I told you about in good faith, set charges and are now ready to level the encampment?”  
“You sound put out. I was only doing what you told me to do if the situation arose. I'd say this was warranted. I can only surmise you came here looking to do exactly what I've already done.”  
Simon watched Tony turn crimson, biting back a smile when Tony nodded, “And you'd be correct. Good job, good, good job all of you. So when do the fireworks begin?”  
“When the time is right.”  
Tony tilted his head to gaze at Simon, “When the time is right?”  
Simon looked down at the ground, “Yes, when we have a sign.”  
“Okay, what the hell is going on?” Tony stood up, “First Denehy takes off on a suicide mission to Jotunheim now you're talking about waiting for a sign. You've both been in Asgard too long!”  
Simon felt as if his world had upended itself.  
“Colin did what?”  
“He took Brenna's necklace and left for Jotunheim, told Brenna he was going to retrieve the casket and Loki so I'm pretty certain we've seen the last of him.”  
Simon looked at Brenna to find her staring back at him, wide eyed, panic clear upon her face and he knew. Should have known long before now when they'd talked about Trena's crazy tirades, when he'd admitted to understanding the words of the ancient song at Odin's funeral. He should have seen it. Maybe he had but his rational mind had chosen to write it off. After all, he could scarce imagine Colin as the Protector of Asgard, not the tall gangly youth with whom he'd explored tide pools by the seashore, talked with about getting the girls at the resort to notice them, however when Brenna gave an imperceptible shake of her head, he knew he was right.  
“Don't count him out. He's a good man and good men always win.”  
Tony let out a laugh so loud, Simon wanted to knock him down, “Mister Foster, It gives me no great pleasure to tell you that the good guys do not always win, not at least until there are lots of dead bodies to stand upon. Trust me, I've seen it.”  
Simon jumped up from the cot hands into fists at his side, “Well I for one am not going to raise the body count if I can help it and since we hold the detonators, I say we wait.”  
He held Tony's stare as the seconds ticked by until at last Tony clapped his hands together, “Fine, you know what? Fine, you're now the boss of this project. This is your rodeo but the consequences of your actions are going to be yours as well so I hope you know what you're talking about. Now is there anywhere we can bed down, tomorrow is going to be a busy day.”

“Kenworth, find a tent for them,” Simon rubbed his eyes, all at once unable to focus his thoughts clearly, “We'll meet up in the morning.”  
As Brenna was herded out of the tent, she mouthed “thank you” to Simon. He smiled in return surer than he'd been before that things were going to be alright. 

 

Eris felt her hand slide away from Sulyir's as she canted to her left to land on one knee in the snow.   
“Damnit,” she growled, flailing for his hand as her shin prickled with icy needles, “If we manage to get out of this in one piece, we're going to live in Florida.”  
Sulyir cast a glance over his shoulder at the now distant fortress, the sentries standing at the iron gates talking to each other. He pulled her to her feet.  
“What is this Florida?”  
“It's a state in America,” she took his hand, glad to see him fade away again, “...where they never see snow...well most of the time.”  
“Never?”  
She could hear the trepidation in his voice and she sighed as they started up the ridge again, “Alright then California. They've got cold and hot running weather in equal amounts depending on where you go.”  
“I do not understand...”  
“Yeah, I know. You'll just have to wait and see.”  
When they grew even with the top of the ridge, they stopped, too shocked even to speak. Jogging toward them from the plains to the northwest was a figure, silhouetted against the bright snow.  
“What do we do?” Sulyir whispered.  
The person was growing closer, she could just hear his labored breathing, “Whoever it is can't see us, remember? We stay out of the way and let them pass.”  
“Why can we not simply keep going? What if Prince Loki has found you missing? They will sound the alarm, they will come after us.”  
“Listen, we don't know who or what that is coming toward us so that's a bigger threat than your boys at the fortress at the moment and our feet make noise in the snow when we walk so if we stand still we might be safe, understand? Now shut up!”

 

He was soaked with sweat, could feel it when the wind would cut beneath his heavy cloak. He wouldn't have thought it possible to be warm in such a realm of ice and snow but there it was. The fortress rose like a mountain from the plain as he drew closer. The sky had grown lighter still and he dreaded the thought of finding a place to hide until nightfall. He had to do what he set out to do in short order. He slowed to a stop, hands on his hips, trying to catch his breath. Before him was a long downslope at the end of which lay an ominous looking chasm forded by a wide stone bridge. The chasm itself stretched to the left and right as far as the eye could see, like a natural moat. Beyond the bridge lay the fortress, its great edifice outlined in a faint phosphorescent aqua glow, its slitted windows backlit with bright blue light.  
He crouched down to the snow upon spying movement at a high arched iron grate in the center of the structure. Naturally the place would be guarded. Just one more thing he hadn't considered and now he was left to wonder how he was going to get past them. Before he could consider his next move, however, his name came to him upon the wind, a whisper to his left, faint to be sure but he was certain he'd hear it. Also was he certain he was alone on the frigid tundra, still he turned his head, knowing he would see nothing but the impulse was not to be denied. The plains were empty save for four holes in the crusty snow a few feet away. He squinted in the dim light, looking over the apex of the slope to find a weaving trail of broken snow climbing up the slope....or perhaps down it. He looked again to his left, strained hard to listen over the wind, heard nothing.   
“Yer daft, Denehy,” he muttered to himself, drawing his cloak tighter around him, happy for the brief respite when the wind dropped for a moment. All at once, his eyes grew wide. There was someone here beside him on the plains. He could hear them breathing, hear the rustle of clothing, the movement the crunch of snow. He pivoted to his left took a few steps forward and saw two sets of footprints appear in the drifts. He took another step, had to cover his mouth with the collar of his cloak lest he laugh aloud.   
“Show yerself, thief,” he chuckled as more footprints appeared, moving away from him, “What happened now? Yer situation didn't suit you?”  
Silence save for the howl of the wind on the fly once more.  
“What are you afraid of?”  
The footprints kept moving further away and he could have sworn he heard a few whispered words but they were torn away by the wind. Perhaps they had been the wind itself playing tricks on his overstimulated mind but he had to be sure.  
“If you run, you'll never be able to stop,” his brain was working furiously now, “Yer going to die of exposure out here. Where is there to go?”  
Silence.   
He closed his eyes. What he wouldn't have given right then to be back at the manor in his bed watching the firelight cast shadows about the room.  
“Asgard.”  
He stared hard at the footprints. They were further away now but they'd stopped moving.  
“What?”  
The voice came again, drifting upon the air, conjuring up images of phantoms, “I can return to Asgard.”  
“How? If yer running from them Jotunns, yer not going to be able to use the Bifrost and Portal one is offline permanently.”  
“I have my ways.”  
“So yer going to return to Asgard where yer the most wanted woman in the realm?” he rubbed his chin, “You better get used to yer condition right now because you'll never be able to show yer face without being fingered.”  
“Those backward hicks? I don't have to return to the city. There's an entire realm to explore. How can everyone in every village possibly know what I look like? They all of a sudden discover the internet while I was away?”  
“It wouldn't be very hard for Mister Stark to pull up yer mug on his tablet...”  
He waited. It was his turn to let her ponder her position. He hear more whispering though he was unable to understand the words.  
“Even if my picture was going to be nailed to every fence post, it's a big realm. I could continue on to Alfheim or....” more whispers, “or Muspelheim? Where's that?”  
“Who's with you?” if she answered Loki, he was going to tackle them both.  
“A friend.”  
“Loki?”  
Laughter rang out so loud he worried the sentinels standing before the gates of the dark fortress might hear her.  
“Shut yer fucking gob! Yer voice carries!”  
“Oh I am so sorry. Are you worried they might come looking for you? Not me because they can't see me....but you? Want me to give them a yell? You've probably got some questions for them.”  
“You didn't answer me, Eris,” he growled, steering her away from the escalating confrontation, “Is Loki with you?”  
At the mention of her name, she seemed cowed. Her response was softer, tinged with disgust, “Fuck no. I left that bastard asleep in his bedroom. He's out of his goddamn mind.”  
“It was you put him there,” Colin spat, “Don't you ever forget it.”  
“I don't fucking care. Don't you ever forget it.”  
Colin looked at the two sets of footprints in the snow, “Yer lying Eris. You care about that someone with you. Who is it?”  
“I don't have time for this.”  
The plan that had been forming in his head while they were speaking began to break apart as the two sets of footprints started away from the ridge. He had to make her listen, make her want to help him.   
“I've a way you can return to Earth.”  
The words were faint, “In handcuffs right? Fuck off. I'm returning to Asgard and getting as far away as I can from that royal prick and his blue box.”  
“If you let them keep that box, there'll be nowhere to hide.”  
“You haven't been paying attention have you!” the crunch of footsteps were fast approaching him and all at once her voice came out of the air before his very nose, “I'm real good at hiding if you haven't figured it out yet. They can't catch what they can't see. They can stuff that casket up their blue asses covered in horseshit sideways.”  
“You don't understand. No matter where you hide, they open that casket anywhere on Asgard, you'll freeze to death but you can make sure it never happens. If you help me get the casket and Loki and bring them back to Asgard, I'll see to it yer pardoned for yer part in the crimes against the realm.”  
For a moment he wondered if she'd disappeared altogether then her voice came out of the air, further away, “How?”  
“If we get the casket and Loki back to Asgard. I will testify upon yer behalf to the High Council....upon yer friend's behalf as well.....listen, if you aren't interested in being a heroine, consider this. That bastard down there was once a loving father, a devoted husband and there is a family in Asgard whose lives are forever changed because of what you've done. Can you continue on yer journey with that knowledge? Knowing you've divided a family, crushed a kingdom?”  
“You know what? Life sucks. Those kids might as well get used to it. I think I did them a favor, really. Daddy's an asshole.”  
His hand shot out and all at once, he had a handful of material. Whereabouts on her person the garment was he couldn't say but she let out a squeal as he yanked her close to him.  
“Loki is the finest man I've had the privilege to meet. He's flawed, he's done some terrible things, he's got a temper would make the devil seem like Saint Patrick but he loves his wife with his entire being, would lay down his life for his children and it's not yer place to pass judgment on him, not with yer rap sheet!”  
The cold was wearing on him, the sky had lightened further. They were running out of time.  
“If I help you, you'll see to it we're cleared of wrongdoing?”  
“To the best of my ability. Who's with you?”  
A swatch of cloth appeared beneath his fingers, color filling the space before his eyes until Eris and a slight blond man stood before him.  
He let the bodice of her tunic loose.  
“This is Sulyir. He's....running with me.”  
“Sulyir? Yer the Jotunn that came to the palace with Menyir?”  
Sulyir nodded, “I am.”  
“Okay. So what do we do? Waltz into the fortress and demand the casket? I'm sure they're eager to hand it over. Getting the nutjob to come with us should be even easier then. We'll dangle the casket in front of him and he can follow us along like a horse for a carrot.”  
“I've got plans, trust me,” Colin moved to the ridge to look down at the fortress again where the sentinels now seemed to be leaning against the fortress walls, “How many people have you been able to hide with that party trick of yours?”  
“Aha, I knew there was a catch. I'd say five tops and that's stretching it when I'm not freezing cold and exhausted.”  
Colin grinned at her over his shoulder, “That'll do.”  
“Even if we, by some miracle, do manage to pull this off, we have to reach Asgard without getting torn to pieces by the whole of the Jotunn army. That rift is a distance away even on a run which we will most definitely be doing....”  
“Rift?”  
“Sulyir called it a natural portal. I told you I had a way to get back to Asgard.”  
Colin reached into his tunic, pulling out the Uruz, “We don't need the rift.”


	94. 94

Excited whispers opened Eidra's eyes, the afterimage of a dream, Loki looking down at her from the hayloft in the stables, pricking at her heart. She raised her head off the pillow a bit, careful not to disturb Astrid curled into a sleeping ball against her side. Her youngest child had awakened in the middle of the night crying out for Brynn so Eidra had crawled into the bed with her, holding her tight as they both cried themselves to sleep.  
At the foot of Bruna's cot near the nursery door stood one of the Queen's ladies, her hands clasped before her as Bruna wiped the sleep out of her eyes.  
“The King is beside himself! The Queen said nothing until she could no longer hide it!”  
“I do not think Milady is strong enough to bear such exertion. She is exceeding frail as would you be no doubt.”  
“No doubt whatsoever, still the Queen calls to her. She is powerful frightened, it being her first child.”  
“How far along is she now?”  
“The midwife says the kingdom will have a new heir come sunrise.”  
“Oho, she is so certain 'twill be a son is she?”  
Eidra pushed herself up to sit, swung her legs over the side of the bed.  
“Milady!” Bruna whispered, “Forgive us. We did not mean to disturb you.”  
“I would be remiss to stay abed at such a time. Jane has called for me you say?”  
The Queen's lady curtsied, “Yes Milady.”  
Eidra stood, wincing at the stiffness in her back, “Bruna, when the girls awaken, tell them Mama is with the Queen.”  
“Yes, Milady. Are you certain you feel well enough for such a strain?”  
A thousand thoughts at once fluttered about in her head, vying for attention but she shooed them away with a nod, knowing if she focused on any single one, her heart would break all over again, “I am summoned by my friend, the Queen. 'Tis my duty and my pleasure to answer her call,” she waved to the Queen's lady, “Let us hurry that we do not miss the arrival of the new royal.”

 

As they neared the King's bedchambers, Jane's groans echoed down the corridor.  
“Where is the King?”  
“The Council members keep him occupied in the Great hall Milady, otherwise he would still be hovering at the door fit to burst in at every cry.”  
Eidra slammed her mind shut to the memory of Helgi hustling Loki out of the cottage bedchamber while she labored through Fen's birth.  
“I would think the king would not trouble himself so with women's affairs,” Eidra nodded to the guardsman who opened the bedchamber door for them, “But things are different now. Perhaps he feels a greater need to protect his family.”  
“Indeed, Milady.”  
Jane was lying on her side in the massive carved bed, an arm wrapped around her belly, eyes closed, her hair disheveled, plastered to her sweat soaked face. If Eidra had to guess, she would have thought Jane asleep but as she approached the bed, Jane curled into herself with a groan.  
“Here comes another one....hnnnnnnhhhh!”  
“Breathe child,” murmured the midwife, a tall severe looking woman who reminded Eidra vaguely of Volsa, “Don't tense up on yerself, now. It'll make the contractions worse.”  
“Worse.....shit....I....hooo....” Jane's body relaxed and she lay there panting, “Damnit I knew I should have brought my own medication with me for this.”  
“Lie on your back,” Eidra bent over her, smoothing her hair from her forehead.  
“Eidra!” Jane flashed a relieved smile at her, grabbed her arm to give it a weak squeeze, “I didn't know you were even out of bed. Thor said...”  
“Shhh. Thor has been too busy with his own tribulations to trouble about much else. Let us get you propped up a bit,” Eidra gestured to the midwife who began to rearrange the pillows as Jane struggled to sit forward.  
“Unnnh!...he popped.....his head into the.....room” Jane gasped as they slid her up the pillows, “And I....told him ...he was safer....fighting the Jotunnnssss, shit!”  
“Another one, closer yet.” The midwife waved to a young servant girl standing at the other side of the bed, “Fetch more linens, 'twill not be long now.”  
Jane flopped back against the pillows, panting, “ Oh Eidra, when I started having contractions I was so terrified. I didn't even tell Thor until he caught me in the middle of one and made me confess. He was white as a sheet.”  
Eidra sat beside her on the bed, “Whatever is there to be frightened of? It is a baby. Women have been having them for untold seasons.”  
“I'm not very good with pain, okay?”  
Eidra took Jane's hand, “Neither am I.”  
“It's going to be worth it,” Jane chuckled weakly, “That's what they all tell me.”  
Eidra smiled, “Then it must be so and soon you will have a child to love.”  
Jane nodded, screwed her eyes shut as she gasped, “Not soon …..enough!”

 

The overcast sky had turned dark turquoise by the time they stepped off the other end of the bridge to wait for the changing of the sentries as Sulyir had advised. They had not long to wait before the heavy iron doors began to swing outward and Colin felt Eris tug on his hand. He had to stifle the urge to start running as they passed by the relief guards on their way into the fortress.  
Before they'd started their trek down the slope, Eris had warned him that there might be some difficulty hiding a fourth person.  
_“If I don't have direct contact with whoever's the odd man out, he could possibly be partially visible. It's like weakening a connection the further you get from the source and I'm already exhausted..”_  
The deeper they ventured into the stronghold, the more nervous Sulyir seemed to become, urgently whispering to Colin.  
“Whatever it is you intend to do, it must be done quickly. Loki will surely yell for the sentries ....or perhaps he will try to kill you first. Your goal will be to remove the iron bands from his wrists, they are what holds the enchantment at bay, keeps him in his Jotunn form. Without them, the enchantment Odin placed upon him should take hold again.”  
“Should.”  
“It is all I can offer.”  
The farther they traveled from the main gates, the more anxious Colin became, certain they'd be found out at every turn, every closed door. Other than a few Jotunn roaming the cold corridors, however, the fortress was still relatively quiet. He was about to ask Sulyir where they were headed when at last they stopped before an ornate door flanked by two warriors. They lingered a moment before continuing on, slipping between two rough hewn pillars a short distance down the corridor. Satisfied they were out of earshot, Sulyir spoke up, “The casket is behind those doors. We will fetch it. If we succeed, we will return to Loki's room and from there to Asgard.”  
“No, no if. When we succeed, alright? Don't worry. We'll be waiting fer you,” Colin replied with a confidence he didn't quite feel.  
“Very well. This is where we part ways.”  
“Here? Wait a tick. I've no idea where I'm...”  
He felt a hand on his chin, nearly making him yelp out loud as his head was turned to stare at a nondescript door directly across the corridor from them.  
“See? Door....open....go inside...” came Eris's voice, “Good luck.”  
It was a plain wrought iron door, unguarded, a mark for their side.  
“Are you ready, then?”  
“No,” Colin let go of Eris's hand, scurried across the corridor to lift the latch and eased the door open.

 

Colin shut the door as gently as he could, never taking his eyes off the sleeping figure in the low slung bed across the room. The great blue stone in the wall gave a sterile luminance, a flat dim light to the chamber. Sulyir had explained to him that the blue light which emanated from nearly every available surface in the fortress looked, to the Jotunns, as bright as any Asgardian lantern. He would be at a distinct disadvantage in a fight but there was no turning back. He was committed now. He picked his steps carefully across the floor until he was at the foot of the bed. Loki lay beneath a fur robe, an arm slung behind his head, the other arm draped over his stomach.  
Colin studied the wide hinged bracelet at his exposed wrist. It was made of a thick iron-like metal. Colin smiled at this. If it was hinged then it could be opened.... but where was the latch. He leaned in closer, ever watchful for any movement. The clock was ticking. At any minute, Eris and Sulyir could come bursting in with the casket. He had to make a move soon but before he could act, there came a groan. Colin glanced up to see Loki's eyes blink open, staring blearily up at the ceiling.  
_“Shit! Shit! I'm dead. I'm fecking dead!”_ a voice screamed in his head. He leaped forward, clamping one hand across Loki's mouth, grabbing his free arm with the other. The surprise in Loki's eyes quickly gave way to murderous rage so sharp Colin felt certain if he let Loki go, his life would be forfeit.  
“Listen, don't call for the guards. I'm here to help you. We need to get these bracelets off yer wrists.”  
He felt Loki's body tense, scream something beneath his palm but when Loki tried to free his arm with no success, Colin at last understood. The runes were doing what they were meant to do, they were giving him the power, the insight he needed to complete his mission. When he'd touched the final rune, the chalice, he expected something spectacular to happen, a surge of power so strong it would blow out the windows through the entire palace, transform him but the change had been far subtler, giving him only what he needed when he needed it. He worked his hand up to Loki's wrist, searching the bracelet for any discernible latch.  
“I'm going to bring you back home to Eidra. You shouldn't be here.”  
At the mention of Eidra's name, Loki grunted, flexed his arm.  
“Just lie still...”  
He felt the bed sink behind him, a hand clap across his forehead, saw the arm swing around from his right and he brought his hand up, blocking the dagger a fraction of a instant before it could complete its trajectory, knocking the weapon to the now empty bed, with all his might, throwing his weight backward tumbling himself and his assailant to the hard stone floor with a resounding slap. Free at last, Colin scrambled to his feet to stare dumbfounded at Loki who was slower to rise, having borne the brunt of the fall.  
“I'd no idea you could turn a trick like that, fuck!”  
“It would ...ahhh...seem then in ignorance we... are evenly matched,” Loki grimaced, “I did not expect you would still be alive to wonder, Midgardian.”  
It was all over now, Colin was sure of it. Loki was going to yell for the guards unless he could keep Loki focused on putting him down personally. He saw Loki glance toward the bed where the dagger lay atop the sheets with the realization Loki would be more than happy to oblige him his wish. He had to find a way to get those bracelets off and this would afford him some extra time then so be it. Could Loki perform that same trick under extreme anger? There was one way to find out.  
“I didn't expect to survive this long meself. Pretty poor performance from an Asgardian.”  
“I AM A JOTUNN!”  
Colin began to edge toward the bed, trying to keep the wall as close to his back as possible, “You were an Asgardian a week ago. You had a family, a nice home..”  
Loki took a couple steps forward, “For such a heinous lie I promise you I will cut your tongue out! This is the only home I have ever known. I am a prince of Jotunheim!”  
Colin put his hand to the wall behind him. If Loki made a dash for the dagger, he was going to have to do the same, “Remove those bangles on yer arms if you don't believe me.”  
Loki bared his teeth in a rictus, “I do nothing upon compulsion save give you what you so clearly came here for....death!” he leaped for the bed, falling upon the dagger before Colin could reach the bedside.  
Colin searched the sparse room for a weapon of any kind, a stick, loose rock, anything that would afford him some kind of advantage, finding nothing save a short chair at the opposite end of the room. Loki had, by now, regained his feet and was advancing toward him, the look on his face pure malice and Colin was left to recall the fear, the respect people in Asgard afforded this man whom he'd only known as a stern, loving father, a loyal husband but there was no time to mull such tragic loss. His first piece of business was to disarm his opponent. Unbidden, a voice rose from the depths of his memory , _“If yer facing the sharp end of a knife, yer gonna need to know how to remove the danger in a quick and clean move unless you want to meet Saint Peter with yer guts unzipped in yer hands.”_  
Colin was helpless to stop the giggle that escaped him as he pictured his hand to hand combat training outside of Belfast under Professor Conrick, old, gray haired, lightning fast, Marcus Conrick.  
At his outburst, Loki grinned and Colin was certain this was what it felt like to be hunted.  
“Well met. You face your demise head on like a warrior.”  
“Tell me then, can I count on you to do the same,” Colin spat, pleased to see the smile slip from Loki's lips.  
“Indeed, I would not deny myself the pleasure of spilling your filthy Midgardian blood onto Jotunheim ground!”  
Colin felt his backpack press against the wall, all attention focused on the knife in Loki's hand as he stepped forward....  
_“One fluid motion. One hand, palm open, to the inside of the wrist. The other at the back of the hand, snapping it forward. The knife will be thrown out of play by the force of the blow, leaving you to dispatch the opponent as you see fit.”_  
The knife struck the far wall, skittering to a stop beneath the blue stone but Colin had no time to admire his move before Loki's hand closed around his throat, slamming his head against the wall hard enough to set his ears ringing.  
“I will kill you either way,” Loki growled, nearly nose to nose with him, his ruby eyes dark purple in the cold light, “I need only my hands to do so.”  
Loki pulled him from the wall, flinging him across the room where he landed on his back with a gasp as the pack dug into his ribs, stealing the breath from his lungs in one great whoosh.  
_“Distract him! Disorient him. Give yourself time to react. Do not, at any time, let him gain the upper hand again!”_  
Colin heard something clatter to the floor and he turned to his side, painfully slow. Winking up at him was the halogen clip. It had slipped from his pack. He fumbled for it, his fingers knocking it further away, reached for it again, closed his hand about the clip as he was hoisted into the air by the collar of his tunic. If Sulyir was right, this was going to hurt a whole lot.  
He pressed the top of the clip and twisted about to rake the light across Loki's face. Loki gave a screech, dropping him to the floor, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes. Oh now that had to get someone's attention. He had to work fast.

 

“Sulyir,” Hobnir bowed low though Sulyir could see the contempt in his eyes, “What is it you wish?”  
Sulyir gestured at the doors before him, “I wish to see the casket.”  
“But why?” Hobnir surveyed the corridor, glanced across the way to his fellow sentry, Brunrir, “It is safe, rest assured.”  
“Hobnir,” Sulyir gave him a grim smile. He was going to enjoy this, “Do you recall our King's decree upon our return to Jotunheim?”  
Hobnir said nothing, only glared down at his boots.  
“I am now viceroy of all lands east beyond the Silver river. This includes, I think, your ancestral home does it not?”  
“It does,” Hobnir grunted.  
“And does a viceroy have the right to reclaim these lands for the king in the face of insubordination or treason?”  
“I have committed no treason!” Hobnir stepped forward, “I have always been loyal to our King. Can you claim the same?”  
“Treason comes in many forms,” Sulyir sniffed, ignoring the pinch at his waist, “Barring a citizen of Jotunheim from access to a relic owned by the people of this realm, refusing the request of a representative of your king.”  
“I did not refuse your request, I only did as I was instructed. All visitors must state the nature of their business. These are dark times...”  
“This I have done. I wish to see the casket. Will you or will you not grant my request?”  
Hobnir hesitated but a moment longer before reaching for the door handle, swinging it open with another bow, “You may enter, Viceroy Sulyir.”  
He had described the interior of the room to Eris beforehand, the location of the casket, sitting in the center upon a low pedestal made of stone, hoping she would reach it before the sentries had the chance to look inside and as he started forward, he had to bite back a smile when the casket faded from view. Now came the hard part.  
“Where is it?” Sulyir whirled about to face Hobnir, “Where is the casket?!”  
Hobnir elbowed him out of the way, bursting into the room, “No! No! It cannot be...!”  
Sulyir winced, half expecting Hobnir to knock Eris to the ground but a moment later he felt her nudge at his hip.  
“Indeed, yet the room is empty. Who else has entered this room save myself?”  
Brunrir scratched his head, “The King, the Prince, the clan leaders...”  
“The Prince's Midgardian sorceress! She can make things disappear with a touch. She has betrayed us!” Hobnir turned to Brunrir, pointing his sword at him, “There can be no other explanation. How else could the casket disappear from a guarded room? Brunrir, fetch our King, tell him what has happened. I will rouse the Prince. The gods help the woman if she be at his side!”  
Things were moving altogether too quickly. Sulyir cursed himself as Hobnir broke into a trot, his boots echoing through the corridor. He hadn't expected Hobnir to place the blame upon Eris. If Colin hadn't succeeded in his task by now, they were all dead.  
“I will accompany you,” Sulyir called to him, fingering the dagger hanging at his waist, “I will bear witness to what we found!”

 

Colin leaped to his feet, catching Loki at the waist, propelling him to the floor with a bone jarring thud that seemed to have little effect on him. He made to grab at Colin's face, roaring his rage when Colin dodged away from his grasp. He had to put Loki out of commission fast before help arrived or he decided to play his little parlor trick again. Colin reared back with his fist, came down hard across Loki's jaw and felt his hands slide away from the collar of his cloak.  
“Sorry, me friend, I hope you can find it in yer heart to forgive me,” Colin muttered, taking one of Loki's wrists in his hands to bang the bracelet against the stone floor once, twice.  
“St...op...” Loki croaked, bringing his free hand across to work in vain at Colin's grip. If he let Loki fully regain his senses, he might never get another chance to set his friend free. With all the strength he could muster, he lifted Loki's wrist and drove the bracelet to the floor. There was a clang like a metal gong being struck and a crack as the bracelet split in half, releasing his wrist.When Loki grabbed at the freed appendage with a whimper, Colin realized that the crack hadn't been from the bracelet itself and his stomach gave a sickening lurch.  
He had to work faster. He swallowed hard, reaching for the remaining bracelet, ignoring Loki's weak protests. Time was running out.

 

“That Midgardian whore!” Hobnir growled as they hurried along the corridors toward Loki's chamber, “I was certain she would betray us. I tried to reason with the King.”  
Sulyir nodded, “Most Midgardians are not to be trusted.”  
“None of them. Not a one!”  
Up ahead of them Sulyir could see the turn that would bring them to Loki's chambers, he could also see the door to his room but a few steps distant. When they drew even with Sulyir's door, he glanced over his shoulder thanking the gods they were alone, drew out his dagger and shoved it between the leather straps of Hobnir's armor, through his ribs, catching him as he fell back into his arms with a surprised gasp. He elbowed open the door to his room,, dragged Hobnir inside and dropped him to the floor beside his bed, delivering a hard kick to the wound which closed Hobnir's eyes with a strangled gurgle. Sulyir stepped back then to watch with satisfaction as the dark blood gushed from Hobnir's side, staining the stones black.  
“Her name is Eris,” Sulyir spat at him as he closed his bedchamber door, “Take that with you to the next world.”

 

With a click, the bracelet popped open. Colin rolled off Loki's chest, struggling to catch his breath as he watched the color fade from Loki's skin. He'd done it, the spell was broken.  
“I feel like I'm in a fecking fairy tale,” He chuckled, rising to his knees and stretching his hand out to Loki who now lay on the floor curled around his injured wrist, moaning, “C'mon, we have to get you home.”  
When Loki didn't respond, Colin took him by one arm, ignoring the resulting wail as he hauled him upright to sit, “Hey it's over now. Yer going back to Asgard. Back to Eidra.”  
Colin knelt down, looked up into Loki's face and sat back on his behind. He couldn't have come this far for nothing. It wasn't supposed happen this way yet Loki's vacant expression spoke volumes as he curled over his hand once more, rocking it like a baby.  
“Goddamn it! No! Wake up!” Colin crawled over to him, “The bracelets are gone. Yer free!”  
_“The enchantment which Odin placed upon my brother has been broken!”_ Colin recalled Menyir's decree, _“He is no longer your relic, your possession. All that he was has been destroyed so that he may learn all he might be,”_  
According to legend, the Protector was supposed to be imbued with power beyond imagining but Colin felt helpless. He had been drawn from his home in Helen's Bay to save Asgard and its people in their hour of need but what use was all this power if he couldn't save the one person he'd set out to rescue? Had he removed Menyir's hold over Loki only to gain an empty shell? Were all his memories, all his dreams, his past, erased, forgotten forever? He'd seen the agency perform some pretty hard core brainwashing but the mind was a vast storehouse of information, tucked away just waiting to be accessed when needed, like the runes. He'd once remarked to Loki that they were made of the same stuff, atoms, molecules, cells, carbon based life forms, a fact to which Loki had taken offense but a fact nevertheless. His memories had to be there though they might be buried deep. Colin was not ready to give up.  
He took Loki's face in his hands, pressing his fingers to his temples, “You have to remember yer family..... Eidra, Brenna, Fen, the twins, Cait, Astrid, Thor, Frigga, Helgi. Yer friends, Chris, Sally. Silas, me....Colin..... It's all there hidden somewhere in yer head. Births, deaths, marriage, festivals, joy, tragedy. Come on! You've got to remember!”  
He stared into Loki's eyes, searched for a spark of recognition, finding nothing. Tears stung his throat.  
“I know fuck all what to do. Tell me yer not gone for good.”  
And yet he refused to give up, forcing himself to see images in his mind, Eidra, the children, Thor, hear their voices, the scent of Astrid's hair as he carried her down the stairs to the morning meal, sunrise over the manor fields, Fen being hoisted in the air and carried triumphant out of the auroch pit, each memory he planted like a seed, nurturing it, helping it to grow, take root. Still more memories rose from the depths, bittersweet, Lightning lying on his side in the road, the fight with Eidra, the night spent in a drunken stupor at the encampment in Stark's tent, playing hide and seek with Cait, riding, laughing, sitting before the fire....  
He closed his eyes, sending the images in his mind across the void, prying open the locks in Loki's memory, searching for their mates. All at once his head was filled with the most glorious green gold light, shafts breaking through the darkness. It felt as if a thousand doors had been flung open, the hum of a million voices, sounds, sights, words spoken, mistakes made, anger erupting, joy, love enveloping all until from far away, he heard one word.  
“Colin?”


	95. 95

“Papa?”  
Brenna's eyes flew open and for a moment she couldn't recall where she was. All she could see was the afterimage of her father stepping through the portal, handsome in his court dress, smiling, his words ringing like a klaxon in her head, _“I am returned.”_  
“Bren?” Chase mumbled beside her, “What's wrong? What time is it?”  
“I had a dream,” she sat up on the cot, “Colin has found him.”  
“What?” he rolled over to look up at her, “Found who?”  
“Colin has found my father! They are coming home!”

 

“That's me all over,”Colin, rasped, patting Loki's cheek, “I'm going to get you out of this hell.”  
Loki's eyes swept the room, his vacant expression replaced by confusion.  
The soft thump, thump, thump on the bedchamber door brought Colin to his feet. He listened, waited. Another three knocks. As soon as Colin pulled the door open, Sulyir shot into the room.   
Colin backed the door closed, watching Eris grow solid again beside Sulyir, holding the casket in her hands.  
“I've got to set this down just for a moment. It's damn heavy.”  
“Not for long. We've got to get our arses out of here,” Colin hurried over to Loki, taking his arm pulling him to his feet where he remained, swaying unsteadily until Colin draped an arm over his shoulder for support.  
“He's not back to full strength yet, still rebooting but we don't have time to wait.”  
If Colin had any doubts that Loki had returned however, they were quickly put to rest when Loki's gaze settled at last upon Eris and he staggered forward, a hand outstretched, “You!”  
Colin caught him before his legs gave way, “Whoa, hold it. She's on our side. She's helping us. Come on, stand up. We have to get out of here.”  
“As quickly as possible,” Sulyir added, “They know the casket is missing and they suspect Eris is responsible. They will come here to search for her. I bought us some time but we must hurry.”  
“We'll be in Asgard long before they arrive,” Colin smiled, reached into his tunic and felt panic like a jackhammer at his heart. The Uruz was gone.  
“Fuck!”  
“What's wrong?” Eris grunted, lifting the casket from the floor.  
“The Uruz is missing! It must have come off in our little scrap! Everyone look around the floor! I got tossed over there into that corner!”  
Colin eased Loki down to sit on the bed, “Hold tight, we'll be on our way.”  
At a slow nod from Loki, Colin smiled.  
“Colin?”  
Colin turned to look at Sulyir, “Aye? You find it?”  
Sulyir nodded, holding in his hand the leather thong. Dangling from it was a small piece of the Uruz, glittering like a tiny rainbow as it spun in the blue light.   
Colin felt frozen to the floor as Sulyir placed the broken disc in the palm of his hand along with two smaller pieces, “Will it still work?”  
Colin held up the piece still attached to the thong. Brenna was never going to forgive him, “Asgard, the palace,” he croaked.  
The Uruz glowed bright white, sputtered, before fading to a dull milky white. If he'd ever needed Brenna's power, he needed it now.  
“We're screwed.”  
Sulyir shook his head, “No we are not. We still have the rift.”  
“But we have to reach it. If you haven't noticed we're still in this fecking castle. How do you expect us to get out of here alive? You heard Eris, she has the casket to conceal now as well as the three of us and even if we do make it outside, look at him.”  
Sulyir tilted his head, “What?”  
“He's no longer one of you, he's going to freeze to death in that loin cloth,” Colin shrugged his cloak off, wrapping it around Loki's shoulders, “If we make it outside, it's going to be slow going....Loki, boots? You have something for your feet?”   
Colin scanned the room, bending to look about the bed, spying a pair of short boots, “Aha!”  
Outside in the corridor came the distant murmur of voices.   
“Eris, hide them, hurry,” Sulyir waved to her, his eyes on the door.  
“What about you, damnit, I'm not going to watch them tear you apart. Don't make me do that!” Eris made to approach him but he held up his hand.  
“We will walk out of here together, this I swear now stand clear of the door!”  
Colin shoved the boots into Loki's arms, pulling him to his feet, guiding him toward Eris, “Take hold of her.”  
When Loki shook his head, Colin grabbed his hand, clamping it to Eris's forearm, “If you want to see yer wife again then hold the fuck on!”

 

The last of the morning sunlight was swept away when the servant girl pulled the tall drapes closed.  
“Thank you, Shasa,” the midwife called, “Have you the linens ready?”  
“Yes, Mistress Donne.”  
“Ahhhhnnn!!” Jane gripped the bedsheets, her face crimson, her body curled into itself as Eidra supported her knees.  
“You are doing so very well, Jane. We can see the head.”  
“Goddamn.... it!” Jane wailed.  
“Another push. Make it a good one!” the midwife rubbed her leg, “Come on now!”  
“Nnnnnnnnoooo!”   
Eidra watched the baby's head emerge, bringing with it a gush of bloody fluid, “The head is out! Once more and your journey is at an end!”  
“I can't,” Jane sobbed, “So tired!”  
Come on now!” supporting the baby's head, the midwife slipped her fingers past its neck and as Jane screamed her final push to the rafters, the baby slid with a squelch into the midwife's hands.  
“ 'Tis a boy! A boy! Shasa, run quick, tell the King he has a son! An heir!”  
“Me, Mistress Donne?” the servant girl quivered, “Tell the king?”  
“Yes, yes! Go!” Mistress Donne cried, inserting her pinkie into the boy's mouth to clear it, laughing at his protesting squall.  
“That's it, your Majesty. Announce your arrival to the whole of Asgard!”  
Jane lay back against the pillows, panting, her body sinking into the feather mattress as the midwife lay the wet infant upon her chest, covering him with a blanket while she tended to the cord.  
“A son,” Eidra stroked Jane's sodden brow, brushing her hair back from her face, “Your firstborn, a baby....” she bit her lip in an effort to still the tears which threatened but nothing would stop them. She wiped the baby's face clean, letting the anguish spill over her cheeks.  
“...so sorry,” Jane murmured, laying a weak hand upon Eidra's arm.  
Eidra could only nod, words failing her.  
With a bang, the bedchamber doors flew open and Thor rushed inside, running toward the bed , stopping short with a look of wonder upon his face.  
“A son. We have a son.”  
“Yeah, come here and say hello,” Jane held out her hand.  
Eidra rose, backing away from the scene as Thor knelt down at Jane's bedside. She needed to be alone, away from such a joyous scene when her heart was still brimful with grief. With a nod to the midwife, she slipped away through the bedchamber door.

 

“They are gone!” Sulyir cried, throwing wide the bedchamber door, allowing the contingent of warriors into the room, “The prince and the Midgardian are nowhere to be found!”  
Brunrir strode to the bed, throwing the fur robes to the floor, smacking the mattress with the flat of his sword.  
Standing behind Sulyir, Colin grimaced. The Jotunns were getting smarter. He could only hope they didn't decide to search the room in the same manner.  
“Menyir is coming. He is in a rage,” Brunrir walked around the other side of the bed, swinging his sword about in a slow arc, “If they are here, they would do well to plead to the gods for a swift end.”  
“Surely you do not believe Loki has betrayed his brother,” Sulyir cried, “He must be somewhere about the palace.”  
Brunrir's eyes scanned the room, “Perhaps. That is not to say his whore has accompanied him. Even now she may be standing here laughing at us.”  
Colin heard Eris snort, squeezed her arm as hard as he dared when Brunrir's gaze stopped at Sulyir, “Where is Hobnir?”  
“When we found the room empty, he set out to search the corridors.”  
Brunrir lumbered over to glare at Sulyir, “Menyir wishes to speak with him.”  
Sulyir eased toward the open door where stood a small group of warriors at the ready, “I will fetch him. He spoke of checking the fortress grounds.”  
Brunrir kept his gaze trained on Sulyir for a moment longer until with a nod he stepped aside, “See to it you find him with all haste. I would not make our King wait were I in your position ......Viceroy!” the last word he fair spat at Sulyir.  
“Rest assured I will find Hobnir,” Sulyir returned Brunrir's hard stare as he hurried out of the room past the warriors and headed down the corridor to his left.  
Only when they were well out of view did Sulyir slow his pace, “If we can reach the main gates before they discover our ruse, we may stand a chance...though we still have to make the rift before we are captured...”  
“Jesus, Sulyir. I've got the casket and two monkeys hanging on to me,” Eris hissed, “I'm going as fast as I can for the circumstances!”  
“Bite my arse,” Colin grumbled, strugling to keep up with Sulyir.  
“You must do your best. I cannot carry you this time,” Sulyir whispered, “It would look unnatural and I must be visible to the sentries at the main gate. We must hurry!”

 

“We searched the room, my King. If they were here, we would have found them,” Brunrir cried, down on one knee, his head bowed, “They are both missing!”  
Menyir gazed down at the broken bracelets lying on the floor beside the bed, clenched his hands into fists.  
“And are your warriors scouring the castle for my brother and the wench?”  
“Yes, my King.”  
“What of Sulyir?”  
Brunrir looked up, “He has gone to find Hobnir.”  
With a roar, Menyir planted his boot at Brunrir's chest, shoving him to the floor, “Did you check his quarters? Did you?”  
“My King. I saw no need! Ahhhnn!!”   
Menyir brought his foot back again, delivering another well placed kick to Brunrir's side, “No need!? Did Sulyir not bring the wench to us in the first place? I marked well the jealous gleam in Sulyir's eyes when my brother brought her to his quarters. This whole affair reeks with decpetion. Send your warriors to scour his quarters for the Midgardian. Leave no corner untouched!”  
“You heard your king!” Brunrir gasped, pointing to the contingent staring through the doorway, “To Sulyir's quarters!”

 

“Open the gates!” came the call from overhead accompanied by the squeal of gearwork as the tall iron gates began to swing outward.  
With dismay, Colin saw the ridge he'd stood atop not long before, a stark outline against the horizon, bright in the overcast dawn light. There was no way they could make the top without remaining invisible unless they were ready to catch an arrow in the back. As soon as the frigid wind of the frozen plateau began to buffet them anew, Coin felt Eris start to struggle with her payload. Still once they stepped outside the fortress grounds, his heart felt like to fly away. He'd done what he set out to do. He'd freed Loki, retrieved the casket and in the very least, they had a chance if they kept moving.  
They started for the bridge in the distance. One more hurdle. 

 

“My King!” one of the warriors threw himself down to press his forehead to the cold stone floor of the corridor, “We have found Hobnir! He is dead. His body was in Sulyir's quarters! ”  
Menyir swung about, pointing at Brunrir with his sword, “No doubt by Sulyir's hand. A thousand curses upon that treasonous whoreson! I was a fool to believe his lies! Where did Sulyir claim he was headed!”  
“He said Hobnir was searching the grounds about the fortress and that he was going to fetch him!”  
Menyir nodded to the prostrate warrior, “Take your men to the main gates. Find Sulyir and we find the casket!”  
He pointed then to Brunrir, “To the chasm with him.”  
“NOOO! My King, I beg your mercy!” Brunrir wailed, flailing backward to the bedchamber door, “I did not know!”  
Menyir, however, waved a hand at him, nodding as three of his fellow warriors bore him up by his arms, dragging him away, his cries echoing through the corridors.  
“My King,” One of the remaining warriors bowed to him, “What of the prince?”  
Menyir closed his eyes, “The prince is lost to us. Bring me his head.”

 

Colin had kept his eyes trained at Sulyirs back while they crossed the bridge. On the way to the fortress, he'd had the misfortune to glance over the edge and was gripped with severe vertigo but now was not the time to get dizzy. They started up the slope at a ponderous pace, stumbling here and there in deeper snow. At times Colin felt Eris's weight pull at his arm, could hear her panting with the climb up the slope to the ridge. They hadn't gone much farther when a howl rose from Loki and Colin was pulled nearly off his feet.   
“What the fuck,” Eris gasped, “I can't move. Mister Fantastic has fallen and can't get the hell up! He's going to be visible if he lets go of my arm!”  
“Loki, are you alright?” Colin looked up at Sulyir who had stopped moving and was now turned about, staring down at the sentries standing at the fortress gates.  
“They are watching us,” he muttered, “What has happened?”  
“I think Loki's down, hold on.”  
“I'll be down myself in a minute,” Eris added, “I'm numb about to my knees.”  
Colin leaned over, felt Loki's fingers still wrapped around Eris' arm, “I'm going to wrap my arm around yer waist and pull you up, okay?......if yer nodding, I can't see it.”  
“Yes,” came Loki's faint reply.  
When at last Loki was upon his feet again, they resumed their march up the hill, “If we're going too fast for you, yer Highness, let us know.”  
“What happened?” Eris snapped, “Not so strong now is he?”  
“His wrist is fecking broken. Cut him some slack,” Colin growled.  
“How did that happen?”  
“None of yer business, shut yer gob and keep climbing.”  
The last few steps to the ridge were the hardest, the crest rising out and up but at last they were standing at the top. Before they could go any further, however, the long low blat of first one horn, then another rent the air. Colin looked down the slope to the fortress where the main gates were swinging open.  
“Time has run out,” Sulyir nodded toward the fortress, “They have discovered our ruse. We must run!”  
“Which way?” Colin cried.  
Sulyir pointed toward an outcropping of rock at the base of one of the smaller rock mounds, “There at the furthest point, the twin pillars. Do you see?”  
They looked impossibly far away. “Aye, go on now. We can't run held all together. Eris you keep yerself hidden, Sulyir can you carry her? I'm going to help Loki. Go on!”  
The blat of horns sounded again, this time with a roar from the fortress below. He didn't dare turn around to watch. He slipped his arm around Loki's waist and they began to slog through the snow. Colin chanced a look at Loki's face, dismayed at the fear, the confusion in his eyes, knew if he could but understand what was happening, they would be making better time. As it were, the din was growing louder, rising over the ridge and they weren't a third of the distance to the rift.  
“You've got to help me out, yer Highness,” Colin groaned, “Can you do that? Run with me?”  
Loki's only response was to push him away, run a few steps and stumble to his knees.  
“That would be a no, fuck me,” Colin hauled him to his feet.  
“They are coming!” Sulyir cried, stopping to lean over, setting Eris down in the snow, “Keep going.”  
“Oh hell no. You're not gonna play the hero bullshit with me. Get your ass in gear!” Eris kicked at his leg, “I didn't steal this box back for them, I stole it for you!”  
But Sulyir shook his head, “And this will I do not for them but for you my mate. Do not dishonor me by allowing them to capture you.”  
“Sulyir! No! NOO!” she screamed as he started on a sprint in the direction from which they'd come, sword drawn.  
“Eris, listen to him!” Colin shouted, “He's giving us a chance! Go!”  
“Fuck you,” Eris sobbed, “Take the fucking casket. I don't give a shit anymore!”   
The clang of metal against metal turned their heads. Menyir had been the first to crest the ridge and Sulyir had met him head on, his sword slashing at Menyir's leather armor. For a moment Colin half expected him to win but it was not to be as a wall of warriors bringing up the rear, surrounded him, drowning out his shrieks with their bellows.  
“Oh God! Oh God no!” Eris wailed, staggering to the ground, leaving the casket half buried in the snow, “NOOOO!”  
Colin stared at the iron handle of the casket for all of half a second, trudged over to Eris and slapped her in the face, “Stop it, you have a job to finish for Sulyir. Take Loki and get his arse through that rift.”  
Eris held a trembling hand to her cheek, “I loved...”  
“And you'll have time to mourn but if we die here, he'll have made that sacrifice for nothing. Get up!”  
Eris rose to her feet nearly as unsteady as Loki now, staring about the landscape in anguish. Colin fumbled about in the pouch at his belt, took Loki's hand and pressed the remains of the shattered Uruz into his palm, “Tell her I'm sorry, fer the Uruz, fer Chase...fer this. Go with Eris, Eidra's waiting for you.”  
Colin lifted the casket up from the snow, felt the cold metal sting his skin.   
“What...are you..doing. The casket...?” Eris muttered taking a step toward him.  
“GO! GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE! NOW!” Colin roared, tilting his head toward the ridge. Startled into action, Eris grabbed Loki's arm, stumbled backward, righting herself as they began to plow through the snow. I f the Jotunns made the rift and captured them with the casket in their possession, the war would be back on Asgard, their retaliation more brutal than before, of this Colin was certain. He held the casket before him, saw the rage in Menyir's eyes as the line of warriors bore down on him. There was no time left to consider his options, he had to find a way to stop them from reclaiming the casket, leaving the realm. He gripped the handles as hard as he could and twisted his wrists, felt the metal give a bit and frowned. This, this was what he had been sent here to do. It wasn't an ideal solution, no, but given the alternative, it was the only choice.   
He glanced over his shoulder. Eris and Loki had reached the ridge, were nearly to the pillars.  
_“Move yer arse already!”_  
He turned about to face a scene straight out of Hell itself, thought of his ma and da at home in Helen's Bay and found he was terrified. Images spun through his mind like a hurricane. He saw Brenna...beautiful, headstrong Brenna forehead to forehead with Chase. Eidra holding poor Brynn, the children huddled together crying, Stark teasing Simon about one of his many quirks, Loki standing beside Fen, a hand resting proud at his back, .... Noni...he should have told her the truth, what would it have hurt?  
When he looked over his shoulder for the last time, he smiled. The ridge was empty. He could feel the thunder beneath his feet as the warriors closed in upon him, Menyir's scream of rage echoing in his ears, sword raised in the air, ready to strike and suddenly none of it mattered. They'd won the battle but they'd lost the war. Never again would Asgard have to worry about Jotunheim.  
“Feck off,” Colin growled as the handles snapped and the casket casing gave way......

 

“Thunder at this time of season?” Tamarin mused.  
Frigga shook her head, “Unlikely.”   
They had been on their way to Thor's bedchamber to greet the new baby. Now Frigga changed course, veering into the arboretum, along the path to the walkway about the circumference of the dome stopping to stare through the glass at the Bifrost some distant.   
“Look!” Frigga wiped the frost from the panels, pulled Tamarin close to the glass.  
Tamarin squinted hard, tilting her head this way and that, “I do not see...”  
“The doors,” Frigga grabbed her arm, shaking it, “...they are white with ice! We must tell my son!”  
“What? Why?” Tamarin peered out the window once more to see the Jotunn guards milling about, pointing at the immense doors before them.  
But Frigga was off through the arboretum and into the halls, moving quicker than she had in many seasons. Tamarin raced to catch up with her. The King would be furious if he found her about the palace alone.

 

Simon and Tony looked at each other and in unison, dropped their tablets to the table, racing to the longhouse door. The rumble that shook the forest floor echoed through the morning air. A fine white mist began to descend from the sky, settling upon the ground like an icy powder. The Jotunn guards stood staring skyward at the strange phenomenon, visibly uneasy. Simon, however, nudged Tony.  
“I think that's our cue.”  
“What, now?”  
“Yes, come on. You locate Kenworth. I'll look for Benlaw. Gather everyone at the longhouse as swiftly and as quietly as you can.”  
“Yessir!” Tony shot Simon a mock salute but Simon was already heading at a sprint down the encampment road toward the tents.

 

Thor was at the balcony looking westward toward the Bifrost when Frigga burst into the room, sailing past Jane and the baby lying in bed to join her son at the railing.  
“Mother, whatever are you doing? Where is Tamarin?”  
“She will be along, never mind, Thor...,”  
“What do you make of this, Mother?” Thor gestured to the Bifrost where the Jotunns were now trying to strike with their swords at the thick ice which had formed around the edges of the great doors.  
“Disaster for the Jotunns!” Frigga cried, “ 'Tis the casket which has touched the bridge, look!  
Thor stuck his hand out to the air, staring in wonder at the cold white powder which was covering his palm.  
“But how. From where? Have they so soon begun their reign of terror upon the other realms?”  
A clatter at the bedchamber doors and a yelp brought them around to stare as one of the royal guards stumbled inside, “Your Majesty, the seer, Trena requests an audien....hey!”  
Trena had elbowed the guard aside, “I need not request an audience with such auspicious news you fool! My glorious King, the casket of the Jotunns is no more!”  
“Thor, what's going on?” Jane struggled to sit up.  
Trena whirled about, feeling with her cane to the bedside where she reached out a hand, laying it atop the baby's head, “Nothing is wrong. On the contrary all is right! We have been liberated. All will be well.”  
As if in response, the baby yawned and Trena let out an oddly girlish giggle, “Yes indeed little one. We are saved.”  
“How come you by this news, seer?” Thor pointed to Trena who tapped her temple with a long finger.  
“I have seen it, your Majesty. The time to act is now! You must crush the invaders!”  
Thor grinned though his countenance was grim as he descended the balcony steps, “We must drive them back. Pestori!”  
The guard who now stood bewildered watching the scene before him, bowed deeply, “Your Majesty!”  
“Sound the call to arms. We attack before the sun is at its zenith!”


	96. 96

Brenna slipped inside Simon's tent where Kenworth was sitting at the writing desk with a screwdriver in his hand. He looked up at Brenna, gave her a lopsided smile and continued his work on the small detonator in front of him, “How's it looking out there?”  
“The Jotunns have resumed their patrols of the perimeter, they are guarding the longhouse, where Simon is working though they are clueless. He could be roasting a haunch of venison for all they know of the process.”  
“Good, I like big and stupid,” Kenworth nodded, bent over the detonator to tighten the tiny screws down, “Gonna make this that much easier.”  
Brenna peeked over his shoulder, “Perhaps but when we run, they will do what they have been ordered to do, they will capture us or kill us before we escape. We must destroy the longhouse as soon as we are able.”  
“Yup. One more down, one more to go.”  
Brenna held her hand out, “I will take this one.”  
“Oh no no no!” Kenworth waved her hand away, “I've got the list of recipients from Stark and there isn't one princess on it.”  
Brenna stomped her foot on the ground, irritated at the dull thump it produced, “It is my realm they have invaded. Were it your Midgard, would you not take up arms at the first possible chance?”  
“I sure would,” Kenworth picked up the tiny screwdriver again, “but I'm just a peon agent. You're royalty. You're the people us peons protect and the answer is still no. You want to help, tell Stark we're about ready. He needs to get the leaders in sync.”  
Brenna's shoulders slumped, “A courier is a poor substitute. I wish to destroy our captors.”  
“Don't worry, it'll happen, then we'll have a chance to enjoy the fireworks.”

 

Simon brushed his palms off on the knees of his breeches. Gigantic doubts had been running through his head since the phenomenon nearly an hour ago. If he was wrong about what they were going to do, he could be setting up the whole of the realm for a world of hurt. At least Lelia was safe back in the palace for now. He gave a quiet chuckle. This was the second time he'd left her alone. If he survived the destruction of the longhouse, a far more serious fate awaited him when at last he returned to her arms.   
He reached in the pocket of his jacket, felt the detonator. The decision to pull the trigger was not one he wanted to make. If everyone wasn't clear of the structure in time, well, the outcome was obvious. The remaining men and women would be split into three groups with the idea that each group would start out from the encampment in a different direction hoping to draw the Jotunns through the interior of the camp and, with any luck, past the longhouse, taking as many of their numbers out when the C-4 went off as was possible while giving the agents and techs a better chance of escape. It wasn't foolproof and there was no assurance the Jotunns were going to play along as he'd hoped. Either way they were going to be running for their lives. He looked at the readout of the hologram hovering above his workstation. Seven minutes left, ready or not.

 

The surge of energy that had thrown them down to the snow along with the blast of wind which tried its best to tear the cloak from his shoulders was followed by a roar that rose in pitch to a deafening hiss. Somewhere in the midst of the onslaught he could hear Eris screaming at the top of her lungs. Little by little the blast subsided until it had died away completely.   
“My hand is frozen!” Eris struggled to sit up, “What the hell happened? Fuck, it hurts!”  
Panting, Loki hauled himself to his feet to stand staring at the little copse of trees now encased in a thick coat of white ice. He stumbled forward to press a hand to the rippled surface, angry tears blurring his vision.   
“You brave fool...”  
He rested his forehead atop his knuckles, closing his eyes, the full gravity of what had happened dropping about him like a shroud. Turning upon his family as if they were strangers, the loss of his youngest son, oh sweet, fragile Brynn! Betraying Asgard, losing yet another dear friend. He banged his fist upon the ice over and over. Breaking his vows with the greedy Midgardian whore! How could he face Eidra? His children? His brother?....The only brother he would claim. His Jotunn heritage, his greatest shame had destroyed his world. He was unworthy, had always been unworthy of the happiness with which he'd been blessed. Odin was right....  
“He's dead isn't he.”  
Loki had all he could do not to turn on the woman and snap her neck.   
“Can those other bastards get through?”  
“The casket is destroyed,” Loki spread his hand wide upon the ice, his voice hoarse, “Along with every living thing in Jotunnheim. The power of the relic they held within their hands was too great even for them to contain.”  
Her resulting sob, instead of softening his heart, further enraged him.  
“I hope they all fucking died in agony!” she screamed, “I was going to make a life with Sulyir. Find a place nice and quiet, maybe start up our own tavern...”  
He turned upon her, grabbing at the bodice of her dress, yanking her close, “Had you made such a choice early on, many lives would have been spared but your covetous greed of assumed power and wealth, your desire to possess that which was another's has laid waste to an entire realm and more. Your laments, your hopes and dreams are now forfeit!”  
He let her go, shoving her hard enough to send her into the snow onto her backside while he made his way past her. He had to reach the palace to tell them what had happened.  
“I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt!,” she wailed, “I only wanted a better life. I was tired of dancing and turning tricks...”  
“By stealing, lying, destroying? Your ambition nearly decimated the nine realms.”  
Her selfish response further steeled his resolve, “Where are you going now? What about me?”  
“I must hurry to the palace to speak with my brother. You have delivered me back to Asgard and to honor Master Denehy, I will return the favor. You are freed from further obligation. I care not where you go.  
A moment later, she was close at his heels, “But all I want is to go home. Colin promised he would clear my name if we...... If I helped him find you and that casket..”  
Loki stopped, whirling about to face her and she backpedaled clumsily to steady herself against the trunk of a tree.  
“He would be here to support your claim were it not for you! Your wanton disregard for anyone or anything save yourself has cost us all dearly. For Colin, it cost him his life as well as the life of my son...” he covered his mouth with his hand, bent forward with a wail, “.....my son! My family now knows the monster I have kept hidden within. My friend, my wife, my children, all I love I have lost! I cannot....no I will not help you. All that I have suffered, all that Asgard's people have suffered has been your doing! Were I to run you through with my dagger right now 'twould be better than you deserve!”  
“I lost a lot too!” Eris spat, glaring at him, “I lost the one man I loved! I'm homeless! I don't have anywhere to go, not here in Asgard, not on Earth!”  
“I DO NOT CARE!” Loki roared, continuing his trek through the woods to the road, “Only remove yourself from my sight!”  
Before he'd gone too much further, he slowed his pace, listening. He could hear her grunts, laboring to breath as she struggled to keep up with him.   
“Suit yourself,” he called to her, “Skivver will be quite happy to see you again I am certain.”  
No response was forthcoming and so they continued their journey in silence.

 

Stepping out of the longhouse, Simon scanned the encampment grounds, noting the first group gathered on the north end beyond the tents and the two Jotunn guards who were fast approaching them. To his right, on the west side of camp between his group and the access way to the main road stood a band of about seven more guards though they seemed to be paying more attention to the group at the north end who were now moving toward the tree line at the perimeter of the camp. This was all going to happen pretty fast. He looked over his shoulder at Stark, Kenworth and Chase who had Brenna's hand in a tight grip. Behind them, at the ready were a few of the older agents, Nichols, Vincent and Burns, a couple young technicians who looked ready to faint and the camp cook Fritz.  
“We're going to walk toward the access road as quickly and quietly as we can, try to keep as close to the tents as possible,” Simon gestured for the group to follow him.  
Before they had made it halfway across the camp roads to the tents, a shout went up and the heavy thud of footsteps spurred Simon's feet into a trot.  
“Sorry, can't understand you,” he muttered as they reached the rows of tents. Another cry came from the eastern side of the encampment. The race was now on.  
“Group two is into the woods!” Nichols huffed, “Group three....shit!”   
There were shouts and screams combined with the unintelligible words of the Jotunns off to his left but Simon dared not look.  
The loud thunk and the resulting scream behind him made him stumble to his knees in the snow. He rolled to his side, scrambling backwards to stare up the length of the tall sword separating him from the others.  
“Do not run!” the Jotunn guard growled, “You must return to the longhouse!”  
Simon could see Stark's determined face over the edge of the sword, watched him mouth “Go” but he couldn't make his body obey, couldn't stand on his feet. His heart was a hammer in his chest. They were too close to detonate the charges safely and other Jotunn were on their way to help the guard which now blocked their path. Without weapons, Stark, Brenna and the others were helpless. He couldn't just leave them there to die.  
“Come here,” the Jotunn waved to him, “Do not....AAAHHNN!”  
The guard's hand let loose the hilt of his sword to reach for his leg as he fell backwards into the row of tents, Brenna's dagger buried in the muscle of his left calf.  
“Run!” she cried as they darted around the sword blade.   
Simon felt a hand on his arm, hauling him to his feet and they were running as fast as they could manage over the snow covered muddy ground. The security hut, the relative safe zone, was a few yards ahead of them. As they drew closer to their destination, he chanced a glance behind him, bearing witness to a scene he would never forget for the rest of his life. The group of agents and techs led by Benlaw on the east side of the camp had been overtaken, some of them were being herded back into the encampment. Others who had kept running for the woods had been cut down. To the north, he could see the trees swaying back and forth with hurricane force as the guards pursued the first group led by Carter-Boylan.   
The Jotunns who had hurried to help their fallen comrade had now trained their sights on his group and were starting their way. Up ahead, Chase and Brenna had reached the security hut at the access road, pausing to wait for the others.  
“Keep going, bloody hell!” he shouted, fumbling in his pocket for the detonator, his heart beating a staccato rhythm against his ribs, steps slowing until he stopped, turned around to stare in disbelief at the tall sword still stuck in the ground. The detonator must have slipped from his pocket when he'd fallen. He had to find it but before he could react, a strong pair of arms hooked into his and he was dragged backward by Nichols and Kenworth.  
“Come on don't freeze up now!”  
“The detonator....I....can't...” he gasped, struggling to stand up, “I've ...got to...”  
The Jotunn guards were but a few steps behind them, “Go! Go!” Stark cried, waving everyone ahead, “Simon! Hit that button!”  
“I can't,” Simon shouted, “I've lost it!”  
“You're fucking.....”  
The initial blast threw them to the ground, followed in rapid succession by a dozen further explosions. Simon rolled over to bury his face in his hands, his screams unheard through the ringing in his ears. The surge of heat, the shockwave of energy overtook the group, debris raining down around them in a shower seeming straight out of Hell. Simon heard Brenna give a shriek of pain and he raised his head to spy a jagged piece of wood sticking up out of her right shoulder. In the access road ahead of them, a large smoldering metal box landed with a terrific clatter, bouncing off into the gully at the edge of the woods.  
“We've got to get out of here!” Kenworth shouted, “Before they regroup!”  
Simon rose to his knees, dumbfounded. The blast had leveled the longhouse, the solar cell banks, the tent on the east side and a swath of trees to the north across the encampment perimeter road. He could only hope Carter-Boylans group had been far enough away but Benlaw's people had been too close. He felt his stomach begin to churn.  
“Jesus Bren,” Chase was now kneeling beside her as she pushed herself up to sit, “We've got to get her to a hospital.”  
“Yep as soon as they build one in Asgard,” Stark grunted, “First things first, let's get her out of harm's way before what's left of those blue boys come to their senses.”  
But before they could lift her from the ground, she had twisted her arm about, taken hold of the piece of wood and with a howl pulled it free.  
“Oh now why did you do that?” Stark groaned as Chase threw his jacket to the ground, rapidly undoing the buttons of his shirt.  
“We'll tie it up,” Chase panted, “Before she loses too much blood..”   
“No!” Brenna hissed, shoving him away, pressing her hand to the wound, her eyes closed, “I will be fine...”  
“Come on!” Nichols pointed to the encampment where the Jotunns who had been pursuing them were climbing to their feet.  
“Can we do this on the fly, please?” Stark gestured to the scene behind them, “We're short on time!”  
“Hide in the woods!” Kenworth called as he hefted Brenna to her feet, “Scatter!”

 

They watched the mushroom cloud bloom over the tops of the trees, blotting out the noon day sun with black smoke.  
“What the fuck was that? Hey! The city is this way!” Eris hurried to Loki's side but Loki was already off on a steady jog down the road in the direction they'd come from.  
“As it will ever be,” he shouted to her, “ But something has happened at the encampment!”

 

As the black cloud of smoke and ash billowed into the air in the distance, everyone stopped to stare, Jotunn and royal guard alike. Silas lowered his sword, wondering to himself what could have created such horrendous devastation. Their Jotunn adversaries, however, seemed enraged, letting out a collective cry, taking on the task of defending the Bifrost with renewed vigor.   
Silas raised his sword again, ready to hack away at his opponent if need be when there was a loud high pitched whistle and the Jotunn before him staggered forward against the ice covered doors, a white hot bolt sticking out of his skull.   
A roar grew, echoing through the surrounding countryside. Immense fur covered creatures emerged from forest, hillock, clamoring over hills to converge on the battle. More bolts flew through the air as Silas's fellow guard called out, “The Jotunns from Muspelheim! They have come to fight with us!”  
A bray of laughter rang out as one of them threw the hood of his fur robe from of his face, took aim and fired his great crossbow into the chest of an attacking Jotunn.  
“Velos! It is Velos!” Silas cried, turning on the remaining Jotunns who had now started to retreat as the warriors from Muspelheim began fighting their way toward the city in an effort to engage the battle now raging along the perimeter of the city walls.  
With a whoop, Silas raised his sword in the air, “We are relieved!” 

 

“I do not know where she is, Milady.”  
Eidra felt lightheaded, fear compounding her grief until it weighed upon her like a mountain. After Frigga had come to tell her of the destruction of the casket and the state of the Bifrost, she felt strangely calm, aware of the pain which lay waiting, coiled like a serpent to strike when she was at her lowest. Instead of giving in to her anguish, however, she had gone in search of her eldest to tell her the news. She had been searching for Brenna all morning now, sending Fen out to the stables and the courtyards to explore every possible corner. When she'd returned to the bedchamber after the birth of Jane's son and Beth had informed her that Colin, Mister Stark and Chase had also gone missing, fear had prickled at her heart and with the explosion which had clearly come from the direction of the longhouses, she was frantic with worry. Eidra nodded to the maidservant, watched her continue on her way down the corridor as she opened the door to the nursery.  
“Mama!” came the chorus of cries as she opened her arms to her two youngest girls, enfolding them into a tight embrace  
“You have not found her, then?” Bruna murmured.  
Eidra shook her head, “I am certain she is somewhere about the palace. I will continue to look for her.”  
“Stay here, Mama!” Cait burrowed beneath her arm, “We are frightened. Silas is fighting the Jotunns!”  
Eidra raised an eyebrow to Bruna who lowered her eyes to the floor, “Ingrid was in great distress. She came to fetch Edie, was beside herself about Silas's deployment to the Bifrost.”  
“Of course, of course. Cait, Astrid, stay here with Bruna and behave yourselves. All will be well. I promise you.”  
Eidra stood, herding the girls to Bruna's waiting arms, shutting her ears to their cries as she hurried out into the corridor again to continue her search.


	97. 97

Stark and Chase had herded her behind an outcropping of rocks, urging her further beneath the granite boulders as they perched at the opening, watching. She'd lost sight of the others when they separated into the woods along the access road. Though she'd managed to heal the wound, her shoulder still throbbed. Now she knelt in the snow trying to catch her breath, hoping the pain that raged inside her skull would not be the last thing she felt in this lifetime.   
The Jotunns stomped between the trees, trampling the underbrush and shaking the snow down from the branches as they searched for their prisoners. Even from this distance they could hear the crackle snap of the longhouse as it billowed vile smoke into the sunkissed air. If the Jotunns found them they would likely be killed for their part in the sabotage. She smiled at the thought of what must be going through their minds, how they themselves would suffer for their failure to protect the longhouses.   
“How are we going to get out of here?” Chase whispered, “They look long enough they're bound to find us.”  
“I don't know but if we keep talking I know three ducks they're going to find right quick. Shut up!” Stark muttered as a Jotunn warrior off to their right not more than a few yards, slashed his sword through a tangle of underbrush with an angry grunt.   
When a cry went up from the encampment, the Jotunn closest to them turned about, roared a response and started off at a run, crashing through the trees to the access road. Stark eased himself up from behind the boulder to see what had torn the warrior away from his search, ducking back down as a great clang rang out, followed by shouts and then all was chaos. They rose to their feet, stepping out from behind the boulder to stare at the scene beyond through the trees.  
It seemed as if the Jotunns were fighting great fur covered beasts swarming into what was left of the encampment from the north but Brenna laughed, clapping her hands, “Surtr's people! They have come to help us!”  
“Wha...?”  
“Velos' clan!,” she shook Stark's arm, “From Muspelheim!”  
They trudged through the snow to the access road, finding Simon, Kenworth and Nichols already standing there waiting for them. From further down the access road came Vincent, Burns and Fritz, his hands clasped together as if in prayer.  
“Velos did it!” Simon cried, “He actually did it!”  
“Then let's leave them to it and let's get out of here,” Stark began to herd them away from the scene toward the main road, “Nothing says the good guys are going to win so lets not wait for them to lose. We have to head for the city.”

 

Loki kept his eyes on the plume of black smoke billowing into the air. The access road wasn't much further. Carried upon the air came the distant sounds of battle, quickening his pace. Surely the Midgardians who remained at the encampment could not have decided fighting was far more desirable than slaving under the yoke of their enemies? If so, it would be a pitifully short skirmish but perhaps he could yet save whoever was left were the Jotunn guards to see him. Even in his present state, they might leave off fighting upon his command, unaware of his fall from Menyir's graces as they must be.   
“Why are we going toward the big explosion?” Eris shouted, far behind him.  
He thought of a reply, quickly dismissing it. She wouldn't understand his reasoning anyway.  
“Stay here....I am going to help..”  
“Help who!” she cried and with satisfaction he realized her voice sounded further away.   
With any luck, he would lose her entirely.

 

Brenna held her arm tight to her body as they hurried toward the main road away from the fighting. Though she had taken care of the wound, it was a minimal attempt and her shoulder still throbbed along with her head. When Chase had tried to support her with his arm about her waist, she'd shaken him off. It was hard enough to walk in the uneven roadbed let alone trying to match steps with someone else.  
“Velos' people must be at the city too,” Simon mused, “When we first returned to Asgard, we saw the attack on the city and Velos said he would bring his father's people to help.”  
“Let's hope so,” Tony glanced at him, “Because at this point, we are zero help to them...hey, would you look at that!”  
The group turned their attention to where Stark was pointing into the tall trees. Waving her arms at them, slogging through the snow with a dozen people behind her was Agent Carter-Boylan.  
“Well no shit. I thought they were out of the game completely.”  
Agent Carter-Boylan broke through the snow into the access road, her hand outstretched to Kenworth who took it in a hearty shake, “We didn't think you were going to make it. Those bastards were right behind you.”  
“I was thinking the same thing, I couldn't even stop to take the detonator out of my pack. We were ready to turn and fight when we heard what sounded like elephants crashing through the forest ahead of us. We broke ranks then, ran for whatever cover we could find and watched as more giants broke through the brush. Dressed like polar bears they were. I made my peace with God and waited, certain they were there to help the Jotunns but they started to take them out. That's when we ran...”  
“They are Fire Jotunns, Muspelheimr. They are our friends,” Brenna interjected  
“What about Benlaw and his group?”Agent Carter-Boylan glanced over her shoulder down the access road, “We never saw what happened to them. We were too busy saving our own lives...”  
Nichols shook his head, “They didn't make it far. We saw them fighting at the edge of the encampment, some of them were being herded back toward the longhouse.”  
Stark scratched his head, “So if neither Simon nor Agent C-B didn't set off the C4 and Benlaw certainly couldn't, who did?”  
Brenna, looking down at the ground, held her hand out to Stark. In the palm of her hand was one of the detonators, “Forgive me Agent Kenworth. I needed insurance...just like Mister Stark's plan B.”  
“Ok that wasn't fair,” Kenworth cried, “I was concentrating on my work when you came to the tent. I was distracted...”  
“It doesn't matter, Kenworth,” Stark patted Brenna's hand, “The job is done in any case. Now can we please head for the city?”

 

Loki slowed to a stop. The access road was within sight and he could see movement between the trees. Whatever or whoever it was would be at the main road in moments. He stumbled to the side of the road, pushing through the knee deep snow to the nearest tree, leaning his back against it. He'd left Asgard a traitor, it only stood to reason public opinion hadn't changed.   
“Jesus, how can you stand the cold now?”   
Loki closed his eyes, willing himself not to smother her in the snowbank.  
“I have ever been inured to the cold, is it not obvious?” he hissed, pointing up the road, “Now if you wish to keep your freedom, find a tree, do whatever it is you do only do not let them see you!”   
“Okay, alright, wow!”  
He opened his eyes to glare at her but she had disappeared. From his place behind the trunk of a soaring oak tree, he watched a group of people emerge from the access road and turn in his direction. He eased back behind the tree trunk to wait until they passed, noting the loud roar which echoed through the trees from the encampment. He'd heard such sounds before. They were cries of victory. From whom he did not know.  
“Fuck!” came Eris's voice close to his ear and he clamped his hand over his mouth to stifle a yelp.  
“That's Stark,” she whispered, “And Simon along with a whole passel of agents, I'll bet.”  
Loki strained to hear the voices as the group neared, picking out Stark's banter, Agent Kenworth's response but his heart liked to have stopped altogether as another voice chimed in, a lilting voice seared onto the surface of his heart.  
They were nearly even with the tree now, close enough so that he could hear Brenna groan along with Stark's reply, “You sure you don't want me to call you a cab, kid?”  
“Mister Stark, were it possible I would gladly take your offer.”  
He slipped around the trunk as they passed, watching them a minute longer before he took a deep breath and stepped out from the snow into the road.  
“Brenna?”  
She stumbled to a halt, pivoting about with the others to stare down the road before she broke through the group, clasping her hands to her chest.  
“Papa?”  
He wanted to shake his head. He would never again think of himself as “Papa”, not after what he had done. Instead he held out his hand to her, staggering as she hit him full force, her arms wrapped around his neck, “OH PAPA!”  
He enfolded her in his arms, wincing with the pain of his injured wrist, crushing his firstborn to him, burying his face in her hair.  
“Papa! I knew you were going to come home! I saw you in my dream! Colin said he would rescue you and bring the casket of the Jotunns back to Asgard! Where is he?”  
Loki found he could not respond only clutched her tighter, feeling her body stiffen as she let out a sob, “No! No! Papa no, please tell me he is safe. He was the Protector. He has to be alright!”  
“I would tell you were it true,” he murmured, “He stayed behind in Jotunheim to destroy the casket and in doing so saved us.”  
Loki looked up to see all eyes on them and he eased Brenna away from him, felt the wetness at her shoulder on his fingertips, “The Gods wept, you are hurt!”  
“I was hurt but I am okay. I promise you,” Brenna rubbed her palm across her cheek as Chase stepped up to stand beside her, “There must be a way to rescue Colin. He is not.......I cannot say it because I cannot believe it....”  
“Holy shit!” Stark cried, pointing at the treeline bordering the road.  
At the corner of his vision, Loki saw Eris step out from behind the oak tree.  
“What the actual hell is she doing here? Did you bring her back here with you?” Stark turned to Loki, “She's the whole reason for this fucking mess!”  
Before Loki could respond, Brenna had elbowed him aside and was on top of Eris, kneeling astride her in the icy slush of the roadway with her hands wrapped around Eris's throat, screaming, “You bitch! Filthy whore! Traitor to Midgard, enemy of Asgard!! You sought to steal my father away, destroy the realms. Because of you my brother and my friend are dead. It is only fitting you join them for your penanceeee...nooooo!”  
Loki had wrapped his arm around Brenna's waist, hefting her, struggling, to her feet as Eris rolled over to her side, gagging in the snow.  
“Papa, how can you defend her? She is lower than the mud beneath us. Let me send her to Hel!” Brenna shrieked, endeavoring to wrench herself from his grasp. If he let her loose, she would most definitely finish what she'd started, was even now reaching for her dagger. Setting his jaw, he gave her a hard shake.  
“Brenna. I do not defend, only defer. She stole back the casket and helped us escape from Jotunheim and for this, Colin asked me to deliver her to freedom which I did not for her but for him. I warned her to flee but she refused. Now she must answer for her deeds though not to us alone.”  
“Fuck...me,” Eris spat onto the snow, “She nearly broke my damn ne...eck!”  
“I'd call that getting off lucky,” Kenworth bent down along with Nichols to haul Eris to her feet, “For the time being.”  
“Let us head for the city then,” Brenna started forward, “There are many Asgardians who would be most eager to finish the chore for me. Come Papa. Mama needs you.”  
He let Brenna steer him toward the group, wanting only to kiss her cheek and allow them to continue their journey toward the city. He had fulfilled Colin's wish. He had returned to Asgard, delivered Eris, that she did not do what she should have done, escaping into the realm in relative safety was none of his affair. His job here was finished. Brenna was wrong. Eidra did not need him, nor did the children, Frigga, Thor, Asgard itself yet like an obedient child he followed along, bringing up the rear. A few paces ahead, Simon walked, his head hanging down, lips moving silently. He felt Brenna's hand slip into his with a squeeze and he gave her a gentle smile, his heart near to breaking, divided between fight or flight.


	98. 98

“Milady, will you not reconsider?” Tamarin pleaded.  
Eidra shook her head, ignoring the cluck of Frigga's tongue. She threw her cloak about her shoulders, willing her fingers to stop trembling as she fastened the enclosure at her throat. She was beyond anguished now, she was furious, angrier than she'd been in recent memory and, she had to admit, more than a bit frightened. In the space of one half a fortnight, she'd lost more than she could bear and now her eldest child had disappeared along with Chase and Mister Stark, could even now be lying injured or worse at the encampment? In her search for Brenna, she had at last come to the the royal stables where she'd found the answer from a young stable hand who confessed to have spied the trio, Stark, Chase and Brenna, hurrying away from the city toward the woodlands to the east while he was running along the parapets on an errand. There could be no doubt as to where they were headed though why they had gone on foot perplexed her. Why had she not simply used the Uruz?   
“Do you not see what is going on outside the walls? It is far too dangerous to leave the protection of the city. Let me send a contingent of guards to the Midgardian camp...”  
“Your Majesty, with all respect, I refuse to send someone in my stead to fetch my daughter. The fighting has all but ceased. Our guards and the Jotunn troops from Muspelheim have claimed victory. Bruna is watching the girls, Fen is with the King. I will return long ere dusk settles on this day.”  
With a curtsy, she turned, strode from Frigga's bedchamber. 

 

“Oh no!” Brenna curled her hand around the broken pieces of the Uruz Loki had placed in her hand as they followed along behind the group, “How did this happen?”  
“I confess I do not know. I was not in full possession of my senses the entire time. I only know Colin gave it to me to return to you. He said to tell you he was sorry...for all that has happened.”  
Brenna closed her hand, pressed her fist to her lips, “What had he to be sorry for? He did nothing wrong, good gods.”  
Loki looked away, “His reasons were his own, he did not elaborate upon them. There was not time.”  
“He deserves to be remembered for what he has done for Asgard...”  
“Nay, for the whole of the nine realms,” Loki stared ahead at the group, saw Stark turn his head slightly toward them, “And it shall be so when I relate what has happened.”  
“Have no fear for you know the king is ever on your side,” upon impulse Brenna took his right hand in hers. Pain shot up his fractured wrist to his elbow and he drew a sharp breath, gritting his teeth against the throbbing which began anew.  
“Papa? What is it? What is wrong?” Brenna let go of his hand.  
Loki looked away, pulling his hand to his chest, “Nothing you need worry yourself about.”  
“Let me see, ” Brenna tugged at Loki's arm, “Your wrist is bruised! Look at it. Why did you not tell me you were injured?”  
He grimaced as she took his wrist in her hands, trying to cover it with her fingers while they walked along.  
“It will heal. 'Tis nothing...” but Brenna wouldn't be deterred, closing her eyes to concentrate on the break, stumbling in the mudded ruts of the roadway.  
“An' 'twill take a considerable amount of time now let me....uhhnn...work my little parlor trick!”  
They walked in silence for a few minutes, she holding his hand. He could feel the warmth, the energy radiating from her, wanted to tell her to stop but the relief as the pain subsided was too delicious to ignore.  
“We have much to do when all is settled,” she murmured.  
Loki closed his eyes, his thoughts immediately upon Brynn, “Indeed.”  
“I think we know the score of the game now,” Stark called back to them, “Big Red one, Big Blue zip.”  
They topped a rise in the road, stopping to gaze at the scene before them. It was quite apparent Jotunheim had lost the battle. Some of their ilk wandered about the grounds outside the city walls, tending to their wounded, others were being herded away from the scene flanked by their fur clad adversaries. Upon the parapets of the city walls stood what looked to be the whole of the population watching the action far below them.  
Loki drew his cloak over his head, scanning the walls, looking for Thor as they started down the hill toward the city gates. They'd not gotten very far when a voice boomed out off to their right, “Simon! As I live and breathe! Velos, look!”  
Surtr was striding toward them, his son Velos not far behind. Loki hung his head hoping to be ignored though Brenna rushed forward to greet them along with Simon.  
“I told you I would bring help,” Velos extended a great hand to Simon who shook it as best he could, “When I told my father the situation, he called for the servants to open the vault and bring out the royal armor though you wouldn't know it for all the furs we wear.”  
“How do you stand such terrible cold?” Surtr cried, “Brutal. The quicker we end this affair, the faster we may return home. Let us clear a path for you to the gates.”  
As they ushered the group forward, however, Velos leaned down, “Loki?”  
Loki peered up at Velos from beneath his hood though he said nothing.  
“Father! 'Tis Prince Loki!”  
Velos knelt to the ground beside him, “My friend, whatever are you doing out here?”  
Loki looked about, caught Brenna's worried stare before he was engulfed by guardsmen and Muspelheimr alike, clamoring to reach him and for the first time in many seasons, he was afraid.

 

 

Eidra pressed herself against the corridor wall as two royal guardsman sprinted past her, followed by two servants and Andon, the palace herald who called an apology as he passed by. They turned the corner to their right at the end of the hall and were gone. She slowed her pace as shouts of “Where is the King?!” echoed through the hall.  
Moments later, the two young servants returned heading in the opposite direction with the palace herald now in tow, mumbling to himself.  
“Herald!” Eidra cried, “Whatever is happened? Why do you search for His Majesty?”  
Andon stopped short, looked up at Eidra as if at last realizing who she was, “Milady! Milady oh come with us, quickly!”  
One of the servants, a young girl, had taken her hand and was now propelling her down the corridor with them.  
“What is wrong, for Valhalla's sake, Andon?”  
“The Midgardians, your daughter Brenna! They have returned from the encampment and your husband is among them! Hurry! They are being taken to the Throne room. We must find the King!”  
Loki. The strength left her legs, tumbling her to the floor. The servant girl was beside her at once, “Milady! Are you well?”  
She felt like she had been punched in the stomach, full force. Loki was here? Alive? She wanted to ask Andon if he'd mistaken her for someone else but she couldn't form the words. Frigga had claimed Jotunheim was destroyed, the mark of the casket's destruction iced across the Bifrost doors. Who could have survived such devastation?  
“Is he captured?” she rasped.  
Andon pranced about, waving a hand in her direction, “Captured? Goodness no, he walks into the city of his own accord. He is freed from the Jotunns influence. Oh do please hurry!”  
She rose unsteadily to her feet, rage, hard as stone urging her forward as they started again down the corridor, grim determination darkening her face.

 

When the main gates into the city rumbled open, time seemed to stand still. The city streets were bustling with people helping the wounded guardsmen as they returned from the field, standing outside their dwellings, shops, still more rushing past the group through the gates to the outside. Flanked as they were by Surtr, Velos and a party of guards, they couldn't help but draw attention which increased the closer they drew to the main square. Loki felt Brenna's arm slip into his, her grip tight, body tense while a murmur rippled through the throng gathering about them, following them into the square, joining the sea of bodies hurrying to find out what was drawing so much scrutiny.  
“Make way!” bellowed the guards ahead of them, “Make way!”  
Loki kept his head down as much as possible, leaving the hood of his cloak to hide his face as they inched forward, their progress slowing until they came to a standstill.   
“Why are they not moving?” Brenna hissed.  
“Make way by order of the King!” one of the guards shouted only to be elbowed aside by a great hulk of a man dressed in a fur robe tied with a rope belt, his wild blond hair dancing as he struggled through the throng toward the group.  
“Look!, 'tis the sorceress who stood at Menyir's side. I knew soon's I saw her!”  
“Shit,” Chase muttered, moving forward to stand in front of Brenna, “Put your head down and try to blend into the crowd. Head to the palace.”  
“I will do no such thing!” Brenna poked him hard in the back, “I will stay at my father's side.”  
“You will get as far from me as you can,” Loki growled, “Heed his advice, move to the rear and reach the palace or I shall have you carried off.”  
“You might want to listen, kid. We'll handle it,” came Stark's reply a few feet ahead of them, “This is going to get ugly fast.”  
As if upon cue, Eris screamed. The blond behemoth had grabbed her arm and was now endeavoring to drag her away from Kenworth and Nichol's grasp. Shouts began to rise from the crowd.   
“Traitors! Traitors!”  
Loki shoved Brenna into Chase's arms, “Do not let her go! Do you ken?”  
Before Chase could reply, hands snaked between them, clutching at Loki's hood, drawing it away from him face as voices cried out, “The Dark Prince has returned! Jotunn scum! Bring him to the walls!”  
He had to break free, had to draw the mob's anger away from Brenna and Chase, Stark, Simon and the others before they were made to suffer Asgard's wrath by association. He surged forward, his hood ripping as he stumbled, caught himself, found an opening and began to put distance between himself and the group.   
“Hold him!”   
Loki glanced over his shoulder, could not find Brenna at first, spied her a moment later, Velos herding them through the crowd toward the palace steps. There came a earsplitting shriek, a stream of obscenities off to his left which swiftly turned to pleading as more people surrounded Eris.  
“Let me fucking go you cocksucking bastards...please, God please let me go! Pleeaasseeee!  
“Catch him!” came a high pitched howl in his ear, fingernails raking his cheek, a fist a glancing blow across his lip as he staggered, his mind numb with panic.  
“Fetch my rope!”  
Another fist driven hard into his ribcage brought him nearly to his knees. Only by sheer force of will was he able to keep his feet knowing if he fell, he would be trampled either by accident or design.  
He twisted about. The palace doors were open. Had Brenna made it inside?  
A hand entangled in his hair yanking him backward into the waiting crowd, a cry of triumph rising into the air as a rough noose dangled before his eyes, brushing his bleeding cheek, its coarse fibers tickling his skin like a lovers touch as it lowered about his neck only to be yanked away followed by the blat of horns. A muscled arm snaked about his chest, drawing him upward to stand, another wrapped about his back as Thor's roar reverberated in his ears.  
“STAND BACK! ALL OF YOU! HOW DARE YOU TOUCH THE PERSON OF A ROYAL! STAND BACK BEFORE I HAVE YOU EXECUTED FOR YOUR TREASONOUS BEHAVIOR!”  
“He is a traitor!” a man cried, his sentiment rippling through the throng, “He is a Jotunn! He stood with the enemy! Traitor!!!”  
“The fault lies not with him, he was spellbound and he is still a prince of Asgard, so decreed by Odin! Do you dare defy the Allfather's word?!”  
One by one the people fell silent, breaking ranks and moving aside until at last Loki slumped against Thor's chest and was borne upward by his embrace.  
“Clear a path!” Thor bellowed, “Make way!”  
“Make way for the King!” the guards repeated, waving their shields as Loki tried to keep his balance.  
“Brenna?”  
“She is inside, hush.”  
They climbed the steps into the palace, the door shutting out the excited murmur of the crowds with a resounding thud.

 

Eidra stared at the new prince cradled in Jane's arms, his mouth working an imaginary nipple and for a fleeting moment she hated them both. Hated them for their happiness, their contentment then the moment was gone as Jane reached over to pat her hand.  
“Thor will be back soon, he has to be, geez. It's been at least an hour.”  
“But why did he bid me stay here?” she gestured about the royal bedchamber.  
“Because,” Jane grunted, rising from the bed to set the sleeping prince into his cradle, ignoring the servant girls who rushed to her side to assist, “He wanted you safe. He said there could be an uprising when the people found Loki returned.”  
“Wanted me safe. Oh Jane you do not know how strange such concern sounds coming from the King.”  
Jane nodded, eased herself back down to sit beside Eidra, “Yeah I do actually. Thor's told me a lot. What are you going to do now?”  
Eidra knew full well the meaning of Jane's question but she could not bring herself to reply because she didn't know the answer.   
“Eidra? What are you going to do?”  
There was a loud rap on the doors and they swung open to allow one of the royal guards inside. Giving a deep bow, he nodded to Eidra, “Milady, please come with me.”


	99. 99

From the opposite end of the corridor, Eidra could see people gathered before the open doors of the Great Hall and she stopped. The guardsman, realizing she was no longer keeping pace with him, paused to look at her, “Milady?”  
The group milled about, casting silhouettes against the torchlight. She started forward again, a bit slower this time, clasping her trembling hands tight together.   
“Mama!”   
One of the figures had broken away and was now rushing toward her, the rest turned to watch their exchange.  
“Oh Mama! It is ended!” Brenna flew into her arms, “Papa is home safe again!”  
Eidra clutched Brenna to her tightly before taking her by the arms and giving her a shake, “Are you mad? Running off with Mister Stark to the gods know where!”  
“In my defense, I tried to make her stay here but she wouldn't listen,” Stark was beside her now, guiding her toward the group.  
“A bit of firmness would have stayed her feet, Mister Stark.”  
“With all due respect, Milady, that's your area.”  
As they drew closer to the group, Eidra could make out faces. Velos, looking grim as he stood talking with Simon whose arm was ensnared by a beautiful red-headed woman, Fen hovering close to the open doorway, staring into the room. Still more, Midardian agents clustered into their own group, milling about, their heads together talking in hushed tones.  
She stopped a few feet from the group, keeping her eyes averted from the open doorway and at once, she was surrounded. Fen had leaped to her side and was pulling her forward, urging her on into the Great Hall. Velos bowed deeply as did Simon though they said nothing. Behind them, she could see Silas, helmet in hand, his eyes seeming to search the air, his countenance deadly serious.   
“Where is Colin?” Eidra scanned the faces, “Is he in the Great Hall?”  
Brenna's hands flew to her mouth as Stark cleared his throat, “No, Ma'am. He...ah.. he never made it out of Jotunheim.”  
“Jotunheim? Whatever do you mean?” Eidra reached out her hand, found Brenna's arm, “Was he not with you?”  
Stark shook his head, “He left for Jotunheim to find your husband and take the casket back and that's just what he did.”  
“Mama, he was the Protector,” Brenna murmured, “He saved Papa, he saved Asgard.”  
“The gods wept,” Eidra put a hand to her chest, “He said he would do anything to save Loki, stop Menyir but I....I did not....I should have stopped him.”  
“If you had, none of us would be standing here right now,” Stark looked through the doors into the Great Hall, “He was one of the bravest fools I ever had the pleasure to work with.”  
Thor burst through the doorway with a growl, “He will not listen to me, Hel and be damned!”  
“Uncle! My mother is here!” Fen called to him.  
Thor's scowl softened until at last he nodded to Eidra, gesturing toward the Great Hall, “Yours is a most difficult road, Milady.”  
Eidra pulled herself upright, took a deep breath and let go of Brenna's arm, “Nevertheless, the path is mine to tread. Silas, do close the doors after I am inside.”  
“Yes, Milady,” Silas rasped with a bow.  
Staring straight ahead, she stepped through into the Great hall, listening to the groan of hinges as the doors closed. Loki was sitting upon the opposite end of the long feast table, hunched forward, his feet in the chair before him, a linen cloth pressed to his lip. Upon the back of the chair hung an all too familiar cloak, the hood dangling over the edge by a few threads and she felt her heart a hammer against her ribs. The urge to turn and run from the room was all consuming but she forced her feet into motion, assessing him as she drew near. His head hung low, his face partially obscured by a sheet of unkempt hair. Had the gray streak in his hair lightened in so short a time apart? His arms were a mass of scratches, an angry purple bruise bloomed across his ribcage.   
She paused, waiting for him to acknowledge her presence, a breath away from bolting out of the room knowing if she did not speak soon, she would lose all courage.  
“We thought you were dead.”  
“Hmmph.....Indeed,” he grunted, “It would seem I have survived and therein are you most unfortunate.”  
When she said no more, he looked up at her, “And so 'tis the truth. It should be me lying beneath the ice of Jotunheim instead.”  
_“Say it is not so! Welcome him home!”_ screamed her conscience.  
But she could not...her silence breaking his calm demeanor at last.  
“Were it possible I could turn back time, I would. Then you could drive the dagger home to finish the job you started so many moons past!” he cried, stepping down from the table, “Perhaps then you would be happy!”  
She shook her head, her throat tight with anguish, “Too much....death...too much.”   
That terrifying morning coalesced in her mind, a vision from her deepest nightmares, holding the knife he'd placed in her hand, pressing the tip over his heart. The gods alone knew how close she'd come to impaling him, running for her life. She bit back a strangled sob.  
“I know of untold thousands who would not fault you if you had done so. This has been entirely my doing,” he threw his arms around him, “The secret I kept from you has undone us.”  
“What...secret?” she sobbed, “I did not give voice to that which I knew must be so, it does not mean I did not know what you were. 'Twas the biggest unkept secret in the realm! The whispered gossip from the kitchen doorways, carried upon the air through the palace halls. Gods, do you still think me a weak, frightened young servant with no thought save the ones given me by my master? I did promise myself I would not speak to you of your heritage until the time came when you felt you could unburden yourself but whether it was known to one or many, it would have made no difference upon what has come to pass.”  
He shook his head, “No, you do not ken. The secret alone is not to blame but what it made me into which has poisoned our union. I am now looked upon as a traitor to the realm for my actions, whether they be deliberate or forced upon me. I have cost my friend his life, I have brought destruction and death to Asgard by my compliance, I have lain with another woman....gods forgive me! Gods forgive me!”  
Bile rose in her throat. She'd never felt such hatred toward someone as she felt for the black haired siren. She felt certain that had she been able to lay her hands upon the wench, she would have slit her throat with a glad heart. She stood there trembling, torn between flying from the room and staying to listen further.   
“Where is the whore?” Edira croaked, “Did you leave her to freeze or have you hidden her away in the palace?”  
“Colin charged her with delivering me back to Asgard but when we arrived in the city she was taken,” he dropped into the chair, face in his hands, “Torn from us by the people. We were powerless to stop them.”  
“A pity she could not be made to suffer longer...”  
He rubbed his temples, sat back in the chair to stare at her but she cast her eyes to the floor, unable to meet his gaze.  
“And now we are left with the broken pieces of our life together.”  
She felt for one of the chairs beside her, pulled herself down to sit, hands folded in her lap  
“I will not leave you destitute.”  
There it was. She looked down the table at him, the divide between them nearly a palpable thing as she studied the lines of the face she'd woken to each morning for sixteen seasons until tears began to blur her vision. Her chest felt tight, the air in the room impossibly thick.  
“Brenna told me of the damage to the manor. Thor has promised to dispatch workmen this very day to affect repairs. He has sworn to maintain the household in the manner in which you are accustomed to. The...children,” he faltered, paused, “The children will want for nothing.”  
_"Except their father,”_ the voice in her head was but a whisper now.  
“What of the children? They have lost so much. What would you have me tell them when we leave you behind?”  
“Tell them what you will. Tell them there is nothing left of their father in the man I am now.”  
“You wish me to lie to them?” Eidra cried, “Break their hearts as well?”  
Loki slammed a hand down upon the table, “'Tis nobler to lie than to subject my family to the stain of treason, tell them I am a traitor to Asgard if it please you, then it will be the truth.”  
“What do they know of treason? They are but babes, innocent of the horrors of the world!”  
Loki sat forward to point a trembling finger at her, “Innocent yes, until they are accosted in the city streets because they are the child of the fallen Prince! Do you not see I mean to shield you from all this?”  
Eidra stared at her hands in her lap, angry tears sitting upon her cheeks,“What of you then? What will you do?”  
A grim smile played about his lips, “I have resigned my post as adviser to the king against his wishes but were Thor to attempt to retain me, the people would rebel and rightly so. What shall I do? I cannot say but I will rest easy knowing my family will be cared for.”  
“We must..... tend to Brynn.”  
Loki closed his eyes, “So many lives I would trade for my own. We will see to him at once.”  
He rose, picked up the cloak, draped it over his arm and started toward the doors to the Great hall, only pausing beside her chair when she whispered, “Would it make a difference were I to say I forgive you?”  
“It eases my heart but it will not change my decision,” he reached out a hand to touch her shoulder, drew it back, “Because I cannot forgive myself.”  
She listened to his boots tapping out the measured steps she knew by heart, heard the doors of the Great hall open and shut with a dull thud. Only then did she curl in upon herself, rocking back and forth while her grief echoed through the rafters high overhead.

 

“Shut the door! Stick any rabble tries to break through it!” Perth's voice cut through the haze of agony. Eris tried to smile though her effort was cut short as Perth navigated the maze of tables in the tavern and her broken body protested at the movement with screams of agony.   
“Sigur! Bring your pallet 'ere beside the fire. Fetch fresh linen. She's bleedin' heavy!”  
The smell of roast venison reached her nostrils forcing its way through the blood flowing from her broken nose, making her retch, cry out as jagged bones ground together. At last she was laid down upon a straw mattress, too weak to shiver with the cold that seemed to be creeping up her limbs toward her torso.   
“There now. You're safe with Perth. How many times did I tell ya, never let your reach exceed your grasp? Foolish girl.”  
She forced her eyes open to look up at Perth's round face “Bad..”  
A thunderous banging rang out from the tavern door and Cabel hurried back into the kitchen, “They've threatened to fetch the royal guards, what should we do?”  
“Let 'em call the Allfather down from Valhalla for all I care,” Perth took a coverlet from Sigur's arms, laid it over Eris, “Here now, I've known many a bad sort and you wasn't one of 'em, no more than was Neve, no more than Willa. Misguided is all.”  
She could only smile at him. She was so tired.  
“You rest now. I'm going ta take care of the crowds outside.”  
Perth stood up, striding out into the tavern as Sigur and Cabel hovered in the kitchen doorway watching him. Eris's eyes slid toward the fire and her heart began to race. Squatting beside her pallet, with a grin her sharp teeth brilliant white against her coal black skin, was Neve.  
“I've missed ya's.”  
Eris wanted to return the sentiment but her lips refused to form the words. She craned her head about to Sigur and Cabel then back to Neve who was now standing.   
“Come on,” Neve giggled, her hand out to Eris, “To your feets. We has a long way to go.”  
It took a gargantuan effort but Eris raised her arm from the pallet to grasp Neve's hand, her pain fading away to nothing but a memory. She rose to her feet, a bit unsteady at first until Neve tugged at her hand, “This way. Out the back door.”  
Eris stared ahead of them at the rear kitchen door, open to the waning afternoon light, “I have to thank Perth for saving me.”  
“Ah, he already knows his good deed. Hurry, they're waiting for you.”  
With a final glance over her shoulder at Sigur and Cabel, she allowed herself to be led through the doorway and out into the snow by her dear friend.

“She's in here! Quit your shovin' afore I knock your helmet off your head!” Perth grunted, striding through the kitchen doorway with three royal guards on his tail, scattering Sigur and Cabel to either side.  
“Look at 'er. She's no harm to anyone,” Perth knelt beside the pallet, “She needs ta recover....hey now, get your filthy hands off'n 'er!”  
One of the royal guardsmen had squatted down beside Eris and was now pressing his fingers to her neck. He put his hand before her nose and with a grunt, hauled himself to stand again, “She is dead. Recovery is far beyond her grasp.”  
Perth knelt down to Eris' body, lifted her hand and patted it, “Poor thing, poor, poor thing. Misguided, she was. She'd not a chance from the beginning.”  
“She would have received far worse had she survived to stand before the High Council,” The guardsman gestured to his fellow guards, “Bring her.”  
Perth watched them lift Eris' limp body upon the pallet and carry it out of the kitchen through the tavern. Before he followed them out, the guardsman eyed Perth, “We will report this indiscretion to the High Council.”  
“Hang yourself....,” Perth sniffed, ignored Cabel's stare as the guardsman strode from the kitchen, “Sigur! Get out there behind that bar! We're gonna be full soon's I open that door, Hel and be damned!”


	100. 100

“Director?”  
Lily's head came up from the table with a snort and she stared about the conference room until her gaze rested on Fury, sitting in a chair across the way, his arms folded. How long had she been asleep? She stretched, groaned as her muscles screamed in protest.  
“I told you to find a couch somewhere,” he shook his head, looked up to the ceiling, “What is it?”  
“We're reading high electromagnetic activity in the atmosphere,” the disembodied voice replied. Fury was on his feet, followed closely by Lily.  
“Whereabouts is this activity concentrated?”  
“Ah, in the sky above us.”  
Fury gestured to Lily as they headed for the conference room door, “I want agents on the heliopad now! We're on our way.”

 

The wind tore at the door in Lily's hand, making every effort to wrench it out of her grasp. She could see Tony Stark and Thor standing amid a circle of agents which parted as Fury strode forward. It had been obvious from the beginning that something was wrong in Asgard when neither the portals nor the bridge would work, now Lily was having a hard time fighting down sheer panic, forcing herself to stay in place instead of running to Thor, asking where her husband was.  
When Stark spied her standing at the heliopad door, he gave a wink and a smile. Under normal circumstances, she would have dismissed his actions as the norm but this time it gave her a measure of comfort. Maybe everything was alright after all, maybe there had been a glitch with the portals. It wasn't unheard of.  
“Stark!” Fury bellowed, “What the FUCK is going on? Why have we been unable to contact Asgard for the past five goddamn days? Where the hell is agent Denehy? Why isn't he here with you?”  
Stark held up his hands, “Okay, keep your patch on, will ya. Let's get inside out of this wind and then we'll tell you all we know, okay? I promise. No water boarding needed,” Stark offered his arm to Lily who gamely took it, “Miss Lily, your husband says to tell you he's fine in case you were worried which of course you were. There now you look a little brighter, got a bit of color in your cheeks. It's been a long time since I've had a pretty lady at my side. Don't tell Garick I said that, don't want him to take offense.”  
Lily gave Stark a polite smile but when she looked over her shoulder at Thor's grim countenance as they descended the steps into the lower hangar, the feeling of apprehension returned with a vengeance. 

 

He took another long draught of wine, drew his robe tighter around him as he watched the scene in the south courtyard below. Countless times that morning he'd been compelled to turn away from the sight, forcing himself to remain, bear witness to the pain of separation though it was by no means a fitting penance by far. Already he could feel the wine twisting his mind, darkening his mood. In the courtyard, Eidra was lifting a crying Astrid up to Helgi in the wagon bed. Fen and Brenna sat upon the driver's seat, Cait between them. Gretten rose from his place beside Beth to extend his hand, pulling Eidra up into the back of the wagon.   
In a moment of forgetfulness, he looked for Brynn's happy face, closed his eyes, a strangled cry escaping his lips. When he opened them again, Cait was gazing up at the balcony where he stood hidden in the shadows then Fen hit the reins and the wagon started forward, carrying all he cared about through the gates into the countryside. He stayed at the balcony for a long time, staring at the space where they had been until at last he bent down, picked up the ewer of wine at his feet and retreated into the darkness of his bedchamber.

 

Eidra buried her nose in Astrid's soft hair, trying to ignore the throbbing pain behind her eyes, hugging the sniffling child close beneath the fur robes.  
“....but not even coming out to say goodbye?” Helgi whispered, “ 'Tis cruel..”  
“He said his goodbyes last evening to avoid an upset this morn, and this is hardly the last time they shall see him. The girls will visit when Brenna and Fen travel to the palace. This much I made him agree upon.”  
Helgi frowned, cast a glance toward the retreating city, “No matter whether he was at the wagon or not, the children were still beside themselves. Better to shoulder his duties...”  
“Helgi, please,” Eidra pulled Astrid closer.  
“Very well,” Helgi patted Astrid's back, “So what are we to do now?”  
“We will go back to the manor house. I will raise my children with Ingrid's help. You will continue to enjoy your dotage while Gretten feeds our bellies,” she gave a gentle grin to Gretten who nodded, “Spring will come. We will plant our garden, tend our animals as we have always done.”  
Helgi rubbed Eidra's hand, “You put on a brave face, that you do.”  
“The children need me and I, them. Life must continue. Nothing, not even death, can halt the relentless press of time. 'Tis far from bravery, trust me. 'Tis simply how it must be.”  
The wagon bounced hard as it turned into the drive to the manor.   
_"That spot will be a job for the workers come spring,”_ she thought to herself as she rose to her knees to lean out over the side of the wagon. In the midday sunlight, a line of workmen were busy at the ravaged entrance to the house. Fires in low braziers blazed along the outer wall as the fieldstone and mortar came together, ready to create a new doorway.   
What had been done was done. She would do what she must even if she must do it alone. As the wagon rolled to a halt before the half finished doorway, she pursed her lips, squared her shoulders and hopped down to the ground.

 

“Dōbārā bāriśa hō rahī hai.”  
With a herculean effort Noni raised her head from the pillow. After the anesthesiologist had finished the epidural and started the drip, the contractions faded to a dull ache. She had soon after fallen into a dreamless sleep only to be awakened by the return of her parents from the hospital cafeteria.  
“Maa, speak English,” she groaned, casting her eyes toward her fiance, Daniel, “I told you. It's like hiding what you are saying.”  
“Very well,” her mother smiled woodenly at Daniel before turning her attention to the scene outside the hospital window, “I said it is raining again.”  
“Pretend you're in Mumbai,” Noni lay her head back to the pillow, watched the monitor beside her as it registered another contraction. Her eyes drifted shut for a moment.  
“Mmm, I have always said we traded one patch of mud for another.”  
“What could I do, Tārā?,” her father cried, “Find another job? You have always had everything you want, so has Noni...!”  
“Baabaa, not now, please?” she rubbed her belly, feeling the muscles taut beneath her fingers, Daniel's hand on her forehead.   
“I am only stating a fact, Noni....,”  
There came the sound of running water in the sink outside the bathroom as the nurse called into the room, “How are we doing so far?”  
“Better than I was, thank you,” Noni turned her head toward the nurse who was now drying her hands with a wad of paper towels. She walked over to look at the monitor, nodded, pressing a couple buttons on the IV delivery unit, “You're going to start feeling contractions again. It's going to be time to push pretty soon,” the nurse smiled at Daniel, “Bet Daddy's ready to see the new addition to the family.”  
Why correct her? It didn't really matter, “Yes he is. I know I'm ready.”  
“So are we,” her mother piped up, “I told her we could have this baby at home but she insisted upon coming to the hospital so that she could have drugs.”  
Noni rolled her eyes to the nurse, “Maa, you make me sound like an addict. I'm not good with pain.”  
“Oh I know. When she lost her first tooth she cried and cried...”  
Noni closed her eyes again, listening to her mother's lilting voice, not really paying attention to the words, letting her mind drift back to the day she'd decided to tell Colin the news, stopping at his house after looking up the address from his grandad's files at the rest home, hoping he would answer the door. She had been invited inside by his father, brought to sit at the careworn kitchen table where she was told Colin would not be coming back to Helen's Bay. She'd broken down then, telling him she was pregnant, expecting at any moment to be shown the way out, instead the man had fallen to weeping himself, wiped his eyes with a handkerchief while he told her of Colin's assignment in Asgard.  
_“He never told me where his assignment was. He said it was a big secret. I just never imagined how big. I had no idea he'd be involved in something like that. It's been all over the news in the past few weeks.”  
“Doesn't matter now does it? He's beyond secrets, lies,”_ Colin's father had rasped, _"Wait here.”_ She'd heard Colin's father trot up the stairs in the other room, trudge about overhead until at last he re-appeared with something in his hand which he pressed into her palm. It was a fine gold coin with strange letters around the edge and the likeness of a bearded man with long hair molded into in the center.  
_“Take this. Take it for yer little one and keep it as a memento of me boy.”_  
She'd held the coin in her hand, a shaft of sunlight coming through the kitchen window glinting off its dulled surface as the baby wiggled about in her belly. Before she left, she'd promised him she would keep him informed about the baby's progress, had in fact called the house two days ago, telling him they were inducing her labor because the baby refused to leave its comfortable flat. He was thrilled, asked if he and his wife could come see the baby after it was born. Of course she'd answered yes most emphatically. She carried the coin with her everywhere she went now. She'd had a silver holder made for it so she could wear it as a necklace though now it sat in her purse because they'd made her remove all jewelry when they'd admitted her.  
“Ohhaa, Maa, I feel like I need to push!” Noni flopped over onto her back, “Call the nursssee!”  
All at once, her mother was out of her chair by the hospital window, hands in the air, chattering excitedly in Hindi as she hurried out of the room.  
“Should have had you do it...,” she looked at Daniel, “Hnnnn!”  
“What do I do? Tell me!”  
She shook her head. The excruciating ache had returned only slightly dulled now that the nurse had lowered the IV drip.  
“The obstetrician is on his way. He was just down the hall checking on another patient,” the nurse sailed into the room, fresh sheets and a tray in her hands, “Okay everyone who's supposed to be here is present, right? Daddy, grandmother, grandfather?”  
“All here,” Daniel nodded and Noni looked up into his soft brown eyes, “All accounted for.”  
From then on everything seemed surreal, dreamlike, all focus brought to one bright point as she curled into herself, every muscle in her body bent on delivering the child from her womb. There were shouts of encouragement but they sounded muffled, her heartbeat louder in her ears than any voice. Another deep breath, another count of ten, her hand like a vise around Daniel's fingers. The gurgling cry as the nurse encouraged her to give one more good push and the sudden relief, the woefully emptiness.   
“A girl! It's a little girl!” the nurse patted Noni's leg, “Congratulations, Mama!”  
A girl, a daughter. She lifted her head off the pillow to see Daniel's eyes brimful with tears, smiling down at the flailing newborn as he murmured, “Colleen it is then.”

 

The desk clerk eyed the stately woman, straining to meet the eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, “Where did you say you was from now?”  
“Trondheim....Lars, come here. Stop pestering the young lady.....Lars!”  
The boy who'd walked into the hotel foyer hand in hand with the woman had been immediately drawn to a young lady sitting with her service dog in the waiting area off to the left of the entrance. When called, he seemed not to hear her until she raised her voice. Typical kid.  
“Trondheim? That'll be Norway then.”  
“What? Oh, yes. Norway.”  
“I am sorry, mother. I only wished to pet the dog,” the boy sidled up to her, peering over the edge of the desk at the clerk who guessed the boy to be seven, maybe eight and a bit too precocious. Downright creepy as well. The clerk couldn't quite figure out why, he only knew he wanted to get this pair out of the foyer and to their rooms as quickly as he could.  
“Right, then. One room for three nights comes to two hundred forty quid. Will that be cash or card?”  
“Cash,” the woman set her purse on the counter and lifted the flap. The thing was embroidered all over with strange symbols, odd markings and it looked big enough to hide a small family inside.....or a large gun. He flinched when she drew out a smaller drawstring pouch and set it on the counter, slipping her glasses off her face before working at the drawstrings. All at once, he was hoping she would stay standing at his counter for the rest of his shift. She was hauntingly lovely even though she looked to be a bit too old for him. Then again age had never mattered before. It all translated to more experience.   
She drew a wad of bills out of the drawstring pouch and as she lifted them up to count out the money for the room, there was a metallic clink on the desk. A coin had dropped from between the folds. She reached for it, rather nonchalantly dropping it back into the pouch where it clinked again, joining its companions at the bottom. He stared at the spot where the coin had been. It too had been covered with strange markings and unless he'd been mistaken, it looked to be gold. If anyone else had stood there unrolling a handful of bills to give to him, he'd have thought the piece had to be gold plated, a souvenir from some odd museum but somehow he knew it was the real deal. As she placed the bills in his hand, however, he shrugged. Money was money and it was none of his business how it was come by.  
“Very good, madam. Welcome to the Jury's Inn, Sheffield 'Ere's your entry card. You'll be in one eighty six. The maids is just finishing cleaning that room if you'll 'ave a seat in the waiting area, I'll fetch you when they're done. Enjoy your stay..”  
The woman flashed the clerk a toothy smile that would have looked at home on a wolf, lifted her purse to her shoulder and herded the boy over to one of the couches in the waiting area.

 

“Mother. Might I now pet the dog?”  
Sif regarded the woman sitting in the love seat by the large windows with a book in her lap. Laying on the floor at her feet was a dog with a flaxen coat and eager golden eyes. Upon his back was a halter which read in large black letters “SERVICE DOG”.   
“I would rather you stayed close by.”  
“I will be but a few steps away, Mother,” Lorioi whined, “The dog is gentle, I promise you.”  
“No,” Sif answered a bit firmer than she meant to, setting her purse atop the one piece of luggage which contained all they owned at the moment.  
When Lorioi dropped down to the couch beside her, crestfallen, her tone softened and she leaned closer to him, “When we have found who we are looking for, when we are in a safer place perhaps we might find a companion for you.”  
“A dog?” Lorioi sat forward, clapped his hands together, “Father would never let me have one in the palace. He said they were too messy, too wild for the nursery.”  
Sif looked about at the woman, the desk clerk but neither of them seemed to notice Lorioi's prattle.  
“My son,” she whispered, taking his hand and holding it tightly, “Have we not spoken upon this. We are not to mention our lives elsewhere lest we draw attention to ourselves. Do you wish to see me back in the cells? Yourself in the nursery like a babe in arms?”  
“No, Mother. Oh no! I like this adventure we are on, I do not wish to return...home.”  
“I thought not,” Sif lifted his hand to her lips and bussed it, “And do not call the oaf Father. Your father is dead, do you ken?”  
Lorioi glanced once more at the dog then to Sif, “Yes, Mother......tell me again who we are going to see?”  
Sif looked once more at the clerk but he was at the other end of the reception area, “We are going to see a man named Piritus.”  
“He was once an Asgardian?” Lorioi slid up to her side to whisper in her ear.  
“Yes but he was banished for his allegiance to your father, Magnus. Your true father. We may count him as an ally and so I will ask him for asylum until we might locate others whom Asgard has discarded.”  
Lorioi nodded, “Then perhaps we might get a dog?”  
Sif kissed the top of his head, murmured “All this and much more, my love. One day I will give you a kingdom.”  
“Miss? Your room is ready,” The clerk called to her, “Right this way.”  
Sif gave the clerk a nod and another bright smile as they followed him toward the elevator. Once inside, she gazed down at her son who watched the numbers change on the panel by the floor buttons. She would find Piritus and soon. He had been loyal to her as well as Magnus and there were others back on Asgard who would follow them were they to return. She ruffled Lorioi's hair, comforted as he leaned back against her, her thoughts on his future.  
_“One day, you shall be king.”_


	101. Epilogue part 1

_PROJECT EXIT REPORT_

_Agent / Project Lead: Anthony Edward Stark_

_Date: 02/28/2030  
Project: Remote Portal Placement (Controlled Chaos)  
Location: Asgard_

_If you're looking for the standard clinical jargon here, you pencil pushers might want to take the next file from the pile. For those of you who've opted to stay around, I've a tale to spin. A tale of intrigue and magic, lies and heartbreak...  
Nope, sounds too grandiose, self serving....except maybe for the heartbreak part. That word I'm leaving in and let me tell you why. Straight out of the gate, this project was a thinly veiled effort upon the part of the leaders of the free (and I use that term very loosely) world to gain control over yet another domain in the name of safety and security, commerce, even an exchange of cultures. Sounds a bit Roman if you ask me, which you won't, but there it is. Divide and conquer.   
Of course, as usual, when the men at the top of the heap send their boys to the front line, there are always casualties, or acceptable losses as they're often called. I don't consider any loss acceptable, especially the preventable one. We lost good people on this project. People like Agents Denehy, Ardsley and Benlaw, fine young men who wouldn't have been in harms way, people that would now be walking into the office to start their workday, perhaps on assignment on Alcatraz (didn't think I knew about that one, did you?). There were civilian loses too, HRH Prince Brynn, lost soul Eris Carter. You cannot possibly fathom how much you people owe Agent Liaison Colin Denehy., likely no one ever will because this report will never be made available to the public unless there's an inquiry. I could probably oblige you with a bit of legal action if you'd like but I've got to talk to my lawyer first.  
Earth has also lost some fine people to Asgard's bucolic lifestyle. Simon Foster, former Stark industries scientist has elected to become a citizen of the realm as has college student turned mother, Elizabeth Chapel and Professor Avrum Mindel.  
If I might go all Prime Directive for a moment, I have to add that we have disrupted the infrastructure of an anachronistic society, increased the universal fear and distrust of planet Earth. Those of you who think universal fear of Big Blue might be a good thing, keep in mind we've discovered we are little fish in a mind bogglingly huge pond and if we ever need to defend ourselves in the future, we might not want to alienate those around us who'd extend a helping hand.  
Progress wise, cleanup of the encampment is just about complete. All foreign materials have been transported back to earth assisted by Asgardian muscle so thanks to the citizens who pitched in to help. I expect final exit to be on or around March 5th with all personnel back on Earth. While the reigning king, Thor, hasn't completely closed Asgard's borders, any travel to the realm will be strictly monitored and regulated, forms in triplicate and all that bull crap.   
The portal technology, which has been found to be a viable mode of transportation, might be better suited to the new colonies heading to the moon and beyond. I will be available to negotiate a usage rights contract after March 31st.  
In conclusion, I declare the project a failure. My opinion is formulated upon the aforementioned losses, the personal tragedy. I was there to witness the effect our presence had upon this quiet, backward world and it is my opinion that we remain occasional visitors, casual observers, and expend our energy on becoming better custodians of our own planet._

_Anthony Stark,  
Owner/ CEO Stark Industries_

 

“Assignment six-four-three-seven-nine oh one,” the records clerk muttered as she tapped the numbers into the tablet atop the next packing crate, “Personal effects, Agent Benlaw, Michael J., Agent Ardsley, Benjamin P., Agent Denehy, Colin M. Alright boys, lets see what's left.”  
She released the clips on the front of the crate, slit her packing knife along the edge of the lid to break the protective seal and flipped it open with a loud sigh. This was the sole aspect of her job that Samantha hated, cataloging the items of someone else's lives, sorting through what could and could not be returned to their families due to the sensitive nature of the material. If it were up to her, she would separate the belongings into their own individual boxes and ship them out but it would likely be the last thing she'd ever do under the agency's employment and she had a mortgage she needed to pay so she started to unpack the crate, laying the labeled items in their respective bins atop the table to her right...Benlaw's glasses, cracked but intact, his wristwatch, a vintage Swatch with a faded plastic band. She held it up to the light recalling the garishly colored model she'd seen a number of times setting on her mother's dresser. Standard issue assignment manuals, charred around the edges, his printed name half burnt off on the cover, and at the bottom of his packet, his tablet. This she set on the table before the bins. These had to be gone through thoroughly and would probably not be included in the boxes sent home to the families. Not from this assignment for sure. She would have to take the chips out and put them in the database, scanning them for anything of a sensitive nature. She lifted the bubble wrap packing, popping one of the big bubbles to punctuate her feelings before dropping it into the trash can under the table.  
The next packet, Ardsley's, was pitifully thin. She tore the top layer off to reveal his tablet, a screen surrounded by melted lumps of plastic and charred wires. She would have to extract the chip from inside unless it had been damaged too badly. There was nothing else in the wrapping and she shook her head as she tossed the packing aside to reach for the final packet.  
Agent Denehy's packet was the heaviest of the three. She slid it to the center of the crate and undid the packing. At the top of the pile was what looked like an old wooden jewelry box strapped shut with a heavy rubber band. She hefted it with both hands and set it in the bin atop the table. She would have to open it to see what was inside. Below the wooden box was a long thin package wrapped in crimson velvet and tied tightly with rope. When she picked it up, she had to use two hands. It was heavy, unwieldy. As her fingers slid up the velvet she felt what could only be a hilt of a sword of some type. She lay the package on the floor, untied the rope and gingerly lifted aside the velvet to reveal a long leather sheath tooled with what looked like a scene from some long ago battle. The hilt of the sword looked to be bronze, its ornate workings interspersed with emeralds, rubies, sapphires. Around the top was the same odd writing she'd seen before. She stared at it a bit longer before at last re-wrapping it and placing it in his bin. That item would be the director's call. The next parcel in the crate was wrapped in heavy linen. She undid the folds until she was peering into the face of a tall thin young man with an unruly head of short russet hair, piercing eyes beneath heavy lids, thin lips curled into a Mona Lisa-esque smile. He had been seated in a carved chair pushed up against an eggshell white wall, long green drapes with part of a window accenting the left corner. She lifted the small framed painting out of the crate and into the light, bringing the bottom right corner closer to her eyes in an effort to read the name scrawled in the paint but the letters were of the same style she'd seen on everything else including the signatures at the bottom of the manifestos and that was the Linguistic department's area of expertise. She flipped the painting around. On the back of the canvas in black letters was written “Colin Denehy, painted by Syngen 10/1/29”. Nothing sensitive there, she smiled. The family could in the very least have this as a memento of their loved one. The last item in the wrap was the tablet. She lifted it out of the crate and carried it over to her desk. The painting had intrigued her. Who had Agent Denehy been? What had he done on Asgard? Had he been a worker? A technician? He certainly wasn't hired muscle judging by his spare frame. She felt for the slot in the tablet, slipped the chip from its berth and slid it into a small reader perched atop the desk. A bright green hologram blinked to life before her eyes as Agent Denehy's face appeared and he began to speak.  
“My name is Colin Michael Denehy, E.M.I.E.D serial number zero-seven- one-seven-zero-three and this is my journal.”  
“Computer, enact protocol six seventeen.”  
A disembodied voice ehoed through the room, “Access restricted, agent identification required.”  
Samantha sighed, “Agent Jones, Samantha J. Serial number one-zero-zero-six-seven-two-eight.”  
“Access granted, forced entry achieved.”  
The date 2/15/26 coalesced onto the screen followed Agent Denehy's short bio and statistics. Academy graduation. Division appointment, dates which meant nothing to her at the moment.  
“Search entries by assignment.”  
“Specify.”  
“ Assignment six-four-three-seven-nine-zero-one.”  
The first entry flashed onto the screen.

_Assignment: 64379-01  
Location: Asgard _

_Agent: Colin M. Denehy  
Date: 6/14/29_

_Where do I begin? It seems as if I have stepped, not into another realm, but into another time altogether. Modern conveniences are eschewed here, note that I did not say unheard of. The Asgardians are a people who believe the conveniences which make our life so easy have also made us materialistic, shallow. They believe we have lost sight of what makes our lives worth living and therefore why we are continually at war with one another on Midgard in search of a happiness we can't hope to find in our present state. I hope to prove them wrong about us and the first people I have had the opportunity to work upon is the family of Thor's brother, Loki...._

Samantha touched the screen, highlighting the text of the entry.  
“Entry marked,” came the voice again, “Action required.”  
“Copy to file in descending order, Asgard, field agents, journals, Colin Michael Denehy.”  
The screen blinked, “Action complete.”  
She rubbed her eyes. Right from the get go. This journal and its contents would probably never leave the record room and as she started to scroll through the entries she became more certain.  
“Copy to file...”  
“Copy to file...”  
She could have made the process simpler. Could have set the computer to find a specific set of words and copy the text of each entry but something compelled her to keep reading. She found Agent Denehy's candor refreshing, rare, even, among the many stale, protocol riddled journals she'd read over the years and so she continued until the computer brought her out of her trance.  
“Final entry.”  
She sat back, a hand to her mouth, angry with herself for getting so deeply involved once again.   
“I should really reconsider that transfer to field agent,” she muttered to herself as she took a little notepad and began to transcribe the words she saw on the screen.

 

_Assignment: 64379-01  
Location: Asgard _

_Agent: Colin M. Denehy  
Date: 1/28/30_

_I've not got much time. I'm fairly certain this will be my final journal entry unless, by some miracle, the things I've seen in me head since I became Asgard's equivalent of the Hail Mary don't play out. Therefore, I wanted to take the time I have left to explain my choice to Ma and Da, my friends on Earth, my extended family here on Asgard.  
Da, I lied to you the last time we talked. I know I said I'd be coming home but I've a job to do. You already knew the score of the game before I walked through that portal so I won't insult your intelligence by giving you some weak explanation. Keep Ma safe and sane. Tell her I'm sorry...for everything. For leaving home, taking a job that schlepped me all over the planet and beyond. I wasn't running away from either of you, I was running toward something and I believe I found it here on Asgard. I've a chance to make a difference, to save a people that have taken me into their homes and hearts, made me one of their own. I'm expecting to lose the battle, let's put that right out there now but if I don't try, I'll have lost either way and so will countless others. You understand don't you?  
But understanding isn't the same as acceptance and there have been many things these past days I refuse to accept because I can't understand how fate could let them happen. Eidra, I can't accept the fact I won't see Loki and yourself sitting before the fire, heads together laughing, touching one another in love that shamed the sun with its brilliance. Your friendship was dear to me, your devotion a beacon that made me believe happiness had found its home here in Asgard. Now I find that devotion crippled, damaged, maybe beyond repair, your family devastated and my heart is heavy with grief.  
I will not accept that by our meddling in other realms about which we know little, we've cost the life of an innocent boy. A baby who through no fault of his fecking own was caught in the middle of a disaster that wouldn't have happened had we never come to Asgard.  
I can't accept that we let a dangerous element into this realm in the form of Eris Carter, angry that I didn't investigate the incident further when she disappeared. That was our fumble and it cost so much. The threat of destruction. The lives of guardsmen and civilians, agents, technicians...God help me.  
So if you take away anything from this journal let it be this, that I go to Jotunheim with the sole purpose to right some of the wrongs I've perpetrated,....no, no...it's how I feel and nothing will change my mind. I'm going to save the realms or.....  
I can't say it....I can't....  
I've got to get going._

_I'm frightened..._

_Colin Michael Denehy_

 

Samantha rubbed her eyes again, frustrated to find her fingers wet. She'd never met the man, likely never would have in the first place as he was from the European division but still he'd been a man with a large heart. Were she in that same situation could she do the same as he had, accept her fate, face death? She shook her head with a sniffle as she touched the screen again.  
“Entry marked. Action required.”  
“Copy to file, repeat previous action.”  
“Action complete.”  
“Close journal.”  
The hologram faded away. She withdrew the chip from the reader, re-installed it into the tablet and set the tablet into Agent Denehy's box, stuffing the piece of paper in her lab coat pocket. His parents, hell anyone's parents deserved to have the last words their child left for them, to hell with what the agency believed. She'd get the entry to Helen's Bay if she had to take it herself. She flipped off the lights, plunging the room into darkness, slamming the door behind her. She was long overdue for a vacation anyhow and when she returned, she was putting in that transfer. But right now, it was time to punch the clock and get out of Dodge. Samantha J was going to need a couple beers tonight.


	102. Epilogue part 2

“Simon! He's off again!”  
Simon twisted about, his feet tangling a bit before he could right himself. A few steps ahead of him toddled Coran, his attention drawn by any number of distractions within the scope of his view, most likely the glittering strip of rushing water a few yards distant. Simon scooped Coran up into his arms, laughing at his indignant howl.  
“Do you remember all the times I kept asking when he would start to walk?” Simon deposited Coran into Lelia's waiting arms.  
“I don't take humans in trade just in case you was wondering,” the troll sniffed, regarded them both as Simon returned to the satchel hooked to the flank of his horse.  
“No worries there,” Simon grinned, saw Lelia clutch Coran tighter to her breast, “We've coin for passage.”  
“Good enough,” the troll sniffed, holding out a dirty hand, “Two silver'll do.”  
Simon dropped the coins into the troll's hand. The troll studied them in turn, biting each one by one before shoving them into a pocket hidden among the tattered folds of his garments and trudging over to the gate across the bridge.  
“Where you off to, mind?”  
Simon was sliding a struggling Coran into the sling around Lelia's shoulder, “Ah....we're....attending the royal.....wedding...”  
“You'n the rest a the kingdom. Getting a bit dull to hear tell. Thought you might have a different story.”  
“Sorry, no,” Simon hauled himself into his saddle.  
“Why a princess of the realm would marry a Midgardian's beyond me,” the troll swung the gate wide and started onto the bridge to open the gate at the far end.  
“Sure they love one another,” Lelia nodded, glanced over at Simon who gave her a wink.   
The troll however, looked up at them as if they'd grown another couple heads collectively.  
“This is the only thing matters in this realm,” he patted the hidden pocket, its treasure making a merry tinkle against his hand, “Coin, wares, food, a goodly fire. Love won't fill your belly or keep you warm on a cold winter night...bah.”  
“It will indeed if you find the right person to share it with,” Simon gazed across the way at Lelia and Coran who'd settled down into the sling, his little hand playing with a lock of her long red hair as his eyes drifted shut.  
The troll pulled open the gate at the other end, watching them as they trotted over the cobblestones to the ground on the other side of the river.  
“Good day to you,” Simon called over his shoulder.  
The troll raised a hand to them, swinging the gate shut with a shake of his head, “Love.....give me a bowl a rabbit stew any day, says I.”

 

“Gretten!” Eidra called into the kitchen, “Have you seen Brenna?”  
Beth poked her head out of the pantry and pointed to the large square door in the corner, its iron ring standing straight up in the air, “He's in the cold cellar.”  
“Well then have you seen Brenna?”   
“Mama! Cookie!” cried a squat, rosy cheeked toddler, the hem of Beth's dress gripped tightly in her fist.  
“June, you're being very rude,” Beth reached for the toddler's head, endeavoring to push her back into the pantry. Instead the little girl hid her face against Beth's leg with a whimper.   
“Sorry about that.”  
“Children will be as they have always been,” Eidra sighed, “Please do you know where Brenna has gotten to? The seamstress is here with her dress.”  
The door to the cold cellar creaked open and Gretten's face emerged from the darkness, “You have only to look out the window to see where she is.”  
Eidra put a hand to her forehead as she sailed to the kitchen window overlooking the rear yard. Far across the fields, half hidden by the growing stalks of barley she could see the second floor and roof of the new manor house, late afternoon sun glinting off its windows.  
“I will have to send Fen.....damn....damn!” she leaned over the stone sink recalling Fen's departure for the palace early this morning at his father's behest, “I shall have to fetch her myself I suppose.”  
“Send Calil. He is younger than you. Give him something to do anyhow,” Gretten set a sack of potatoes on the work table.  
Calil, Eldred's younger brother, had only just started working in the manor as a houseboy and was prone to idleness. He needed to be given something to do every spare moment or his attention would begin to wander from his chores. Eidra nodded, staring out the window.   
The manor, a wedding gift from Loki to his firstborn daughter, had only just been completed this week past and it was where Brenna and Chase had been spending most of their spare time as of late. Eidra was sure their absence was due to their increasing desire for privacy. She had long ago stopped believing they were innocent of one another, still she had made clear the rules in her house would include separate rooms until such time as they were wed and to that end she was unbending. She did not stop them from taking long rides together, traveling to the city, or to Midgard, fully aware of their intentions, only they were to behave themselves under her roof. Brenna's reaction had been expected though the harsh words she threw at Eidra had been more painful than any arrows, calling her a hypocrite, telling her she'd become bitter, shrewish. Even though Brenna had almost at once apologized for her outburst, Eidra had to admit she was right.   
It had been far worse at the beginning of the separation when Brenna would travel to the palace nearly every day only to come home and regale Eidra with whatever Loki happened to be doing whether it be writing, reading, hunting, riding, or, more often, when she would find him in his cups. Brenna would rattle on and on in an effort to compel her to rush to the palace and plead for Loki's return, to his place in the manor, in their lives. Eidra would continue on with her work,treating her words as so much background noise, listening out of compassion for the great upheaval the family had gone through but doing no more than that. All her energy at that time had been expended upon returning the manor house to something approaching normal, tending to Fen who seemed to retreat into himself, becoming the brooding image of his father, consoling Astrid and Cait. She would send them with Brenna twice a fortnight to the palace to see their father, comforting them when they arrived home in tears crying to her that they'd begged Papa to come with them but he had refused.  
At last one early spring evening she had broken down, begging, pleading with Brenna to say no more about her father. No stories, no mention of the women at court who had been as of late pursuing him in an effort to garner his attention, no sad tales of the days he would disappear into the forest on his own, hunting until Thor would send a contingent of guards to find him, worried he'd taken his life and was now lying beneath some great oak tree dead. Thereafter, nothing was said to Eidra about Loki unless she chanced to ask directly and then Brenna was gone, on Midgard attending her first year of college.   
Life settled into a routine. Fen, upon formal request from the king, was now immersed in court life. It was almost a certainty that when he turned sixteen summers, he would be chosen as secondary to the High Council so that at each meeting, were a member unable to attend, he would sit in their place, passing judgment along with the rest of the Council, quite possibly becoming a Council member himself one day when a seat was vacated. Cait and Astrid who at the outset would follow Eidra or Ingrid about at their chores never letting them out of their sight, became resigned to seeing their father but once a week. The night before they were to travel to the palace, they would try to hide their excitement from Eidra but in truth, she was happy to see them so eager to visit their father. To her it meant he too had quite possibly emerged from the gauntlet that was the ruin of their marriage to step once again into the sunlight.  
And yet the prospect also left her with a heart heavy as iron. After the ordeal, after they returned to the manor to begin picking up the pieces of their lives, Helgi had grown increasingly frail in body, unable to be of much help about the house anymore. She insisted upon being given chores that could be done while she sat in her chair though she grumbled about being useless as she watched the younger members of the family perform the tasks that had previously been hers. Eidra insisted upon taking care of Helgi, helping her to rise in the morning, bringing her down stairs, setting her up for the day, much to her consternation, a fact she would lament as they sat together evenings, knitting or reading in the library.  
Eidra no longer used the sitting room for other than greeting guests. The fireplace stood cold most of the time, her chair having been moved to the library to sit before the mantel, Loki's chair relegated to their bedchamber sitting beside the window to look out over the fields until she could bear to gaze upon it no longer and had it moved to the garret.  
Calil raced behind her through the rear kitchen door into the back yard with Gretten close behind, “And see to it you tell Milady her mother has been waiting on her as well!”  
“Thank you Gretten,” Eidra sighed, “Beth, would you fix a plate of those short bread cookies you made, along with two mugs of mulled cider. I will have to entertain Mistress Sennet until Brenna comes home.”

 

“Let me see it.”  
Eidra opened her eyes, lifted her head from her arm as she felt Helgi's soft hand tug at the blanket in her lap. The day's events had drained her and it was only going to get more hectic two days hence. The seamstress had tucked and pinned the dress, clucking her tongue as she straightened or arranged a pleat here, a sleeve there until Brenna had grown impatient. Eidra couldn't exactly blame her. Mistress Sennet was taking a powerful long time to do her business. When at last she was finished, she folded the dress gently and set it in a covered basket with a promise to have it back the next day finished for the wedding. By this time, Fen had long been home and the girls were growing restless waiting for the the evening meal which had been ready for some time. Fen had handed her a pouch as they sat down to the table but she merely lifted it back up to him with a request to put it in the sitting room cabinet. She'd never bothered to count the monthly stipend from Loki in the past and she was not about to start the practice but Fen had whispered in her ear that there was an extra hundred gold pieces within to be given Brenna on the morn of the wedding as seed money for the start of her household. She nodded, promising to sort it out later. At bedtime, the girls refused to settle down, a fact she owed to their late evening meal. Only when she lay down and sang them to sleep did they nod off, allowing her to return to the library where Helgi sat upon the divan knitting. She'd sat down upon the opposite end, tucked her feet beneath her, intending to finish the edging on Brenna's new blanket and had promptly nodded off.  
She let Helgi pick up the blanket, “I've but one more edge to do and it shall be done.”  
“Mmm, and just in time. Oh yes, very nice work...”  
They paused at the distant pitter patter of feet overhead.  
“Could they not stay asleep but one night?” Eidra groaned, started to unravel herself from the blanket in her lap but Helgi put a hand on her leg, “They will settle again. 'Tis likely Astrid joining Cait in her bed.”  
And so it must have been for they heard nothing more.  
“You have to admit the girls adjusted well to such an inane arrangement,” Helgi picked up her own knitting once more. Eidra felt the familiar prickle of irritation though she tried to remain calm.  
“I do not think of it as inane. Astrid was all alone without Brynn and Cait obliged to share her room.”  
“Eidra,” Helgi set her knitting down again, “I do not mean whereabouts they sleep but where your husband lies some rods distant.”  
“His wishes were that we be apart. He could not bear to stain the household with his shame, mark his children as the offspring of a traitor to the realm and who am I to argue with his decision?”  
“Bah!” Helgi slapped the arm rest of the divan, “You are his wife! He has taken the coward's way out, rolled over to show his belly to the masses like a dog. Whether he is here or at the palace, his children are his own, nothing will change that. He left them to fend for themselves, suffering the slings and arrows of harsh words without a shield to protect them.”  
“Helgi! We have recounted this time and again. What was I to do?!” Eidra rose from the divan, her frayed nerves setting her to pacing before the fireplace, “He reappears like a phantom rising from the dead, the realm is in turmoil, my heart shattered for our son...”  
“You should have ordered him to resume his place by your side! The children still need him. You should have fought for him to...”  
“I had no more fight left in me!” Eidra cried, frustrated by the tears that yet sprang to her eyes even after three seasons, “I could not know if he was still the man I knew. I was afraid. I was enraged!”  
“Those at the palace altered their decision soon enough. Whyfor did you not follow suit?”  
“Oh were it that easy...” Eidra folded her arms around herself. Even in the summer months the library retained its chill.  
“It would be had you not dismissed him from your heart long before he returned. You chose to believe he was no longer the man you loved. It was easier to accept that he was dead.”  
“How can you say such a thing?!” Eidra felt her stomach twist into a knot, “I wanted him to come home. The Gods know I did. I was undone when he walked away from me but 'twas him who hardened his heart not I!”  
Helgi folded her knitting, placing it in the basket on the floor at the end of the divan, “If you were so resigned to do without him then why did you not act accordingly? Take a new husband? You have had your share of prospects.”  
Eidra snorted, aware of exactly whom Helgi was referring to. In the months following her return to the manor, she expected the court, the Aesir to shun her and her family, had in fact spent countless evenings crying to herself, wondering, though she was loathe to admit it, what possible prospects her children could hope for with such a stigma over their heads. Imagine her surprise then when she was visited by a few suitors, most notable among them being High Council member Murr who had lost his wife two seasons past. He was more steadfast, adamant than the others who beat a hasty retreat in light of his station and he continued to visit her regularly until she had to ask him to cease and desist ere Loki discover his interest in her. He had laughed at her concern but when she at last insisted she had no intention of taking another husband, he conceded defeat and his visits ended. Despite their separation, she was well aware of Loki's jealous nature and she feared he would take Murr to task were he to find out about their meetings. Maybe he did know, maybe he no longer cared but she refused to take that chance and in truth she had no interest in Council member Murr or any other man for that matter.  
“I did not ask for them nor did I care to entertain such possibilities. Helgi, please, I can no longer bear to think on these things. It is too close to Brenna's wedding and my mind is stuffed full already.”  
“I know no better time to consider bringing the lord of the manor home to his family,” Helgi pushed herself up from the divan as Eidra hurried to take her arm, “Oh my, I am ready to retire, poppet.”  
They had gone but a few steps when Helgi patted Eidra's hand, “I have become so very contentious in my old age. Forgive me, love. I say what I say out of concern. Who will keep you company when I am gone? This question weighs like a stone on my heart.”  
“Well it must continue to weigh heavy then for you will be among us for many a season to come. Do lean on me this time for I do not want you to stumble as you did last evening.”  
Eidra saw her ever so slowly up the stairs to her bedchamber, settling her in her bed, massaging her tired legs before kissing her on the cheek and returning to the library to sit alone upon the divan staring up at the family portrait Syngen had painted of them what seemed like another lifetime ago. She studied Loki's face, his mischievous eyes assaying the room, his hand upon her shoulder, fingers curled as if to draw her closer to him.  
“Mother?”  
Eidra turned her head, her eyes adjusting to the darkness beyond the firelight to see Fen standing beside the divan.  
“You are up late. Is everything alright?”  
Eidra smiled up at him, patting the cushion beside her, “Of course it is. I am merely thinking through what needs must be done for your sister's wedding.”  
He sat down, leaning forward, elbows on his knees and she was struck by how very much he looked like his father. So much so that she had to look away lest the crack upon her heart widen further.  
“Why must there be such fuss about a simple ceremony?”  
“Do not let Lisle hear you say that,” Eidra teased, giving him a good natured shove, “All women desire something by which to remember such a special day.”  
Fen sat back in the divan, “And they shall have it. A marriage to a good man.”  
“Oho,” Eidra chuckled, “Methinks you have a lofty opinion of yourself.”  
“I think I am a good man,” Fen laced his fingers behind his head, “No more, no less.”  
They watched the flames dance about against the brickwork for a few minutes, each lost in their thoughts until at last she turned to him, “How fares your father?”  
Fen turned his head to her, an eyebrow cocked in that all too familiar position, “He fares.”  
“Oh.”  
Silence.  
“Does he keep company with anyone in particular?”  
“What?”  
Eidra tried to still her fidgety fingers though they continued to worry the hem of her brocaded corset, “I simply wondered if he kept company with someone, anyone.”  
“He is often found with Uncle. Were the secret known, he still advises the king regularly. He attends council meetings though he cannot vote upon the issues presented. Maybe in time they will see he is the same man he was before …..forgive me, Mother. My head often rules my mouth.”  
“Not at all, go on. You were saying he keeps close with your Uncle.”  
“Yes. He has made a number of visits to Master Foster in Melos though I do not know what they speak of. I would not intrude upon his privacy so.”  
“Oh.”  
She hung her head, staring at her lap until she saw Fen's hands steal into her view taking hers between his own, “He still speaks of you every day. His first question is inevitably how you are getting along, whether you have all you need, whatever it is you desire,” here he laughed, “How you are feeling. What you were wearing. Herein I confess I have been unable to paint a proper picture for him and yes he too has asked whether you entertain any lovers.”  
Her head came up, “I did not ask such a question. I inquired upon his company. After all, your sisters visit him most regularly and I would not have them exposed to any unwanted influence.”  
Fen let her hand go, “It has been three seasons, Mother. I would have thought any concern about the company he keeps would have faded away long ago but love is strange like that, I suppose.”  
“You know little about a love such as this” Eidra curled herself into the corner of the divan, “You are still too young to have been privy to such....,” she stopped, “Such...”  
“Devotion? Young though I may be, I am wise enough to see you still believe in it.”  
She hid her face in her hands with a groan, “Oh Fen, forgive me my tone. I have been most dispirited as of late.”  
“There is nothing to forgive,” Fen smiled as he stood from the divan in a great stretch and a yawn, “I am going to retire for the evening. Good night, Mother.”  
He bent down, planted a kiss upon her forehead and was soon swallowed up by the gloom, his light footsteps creaking upon the stairs to the second floor.  
Eidra sat there alone with her thoughts once more for some time until at last she rose, banked the glowing coals well, took the lantern from the mantel and trudged up the stairs to join the household in slumber.

 

The distant crow of the rooster drew her eyes open. She lay there in bed, blessed forgetfulness erasing the dream from her memory leaving nothing but a whisper of fear. From the kitchen far below drifted voices. Gretten and Beth....Ingrid as well. She should have been up by now. There was so much to do. She wrapped her robe about her shoulders to guard against the cool of the stone walls she would appreciate come the heat of noon and headed in to waken Helgi.  
When she entered the room, she noticed the faint odor of urine in the air. The mattress cover would have to be cleaned and the down feathers changed out again, there was nothing to do for it. She walked to the window overlooking the garden and drew aside the drapes, letting in the morning sunlight to stream across the bedcovers.  
“Rise and shine, little mother. We have much to do today. Brenna's gown will be finished. I cannot wait to see her in it.”  
Eidra hurried over to the wardrobe, opening wide its doors and drawing out a simple gown, laying it on the chair beside the window, “I will fetch water for you to wash then we shall to the morning meal to try one of those scones Beth promised us.”  
Eidra approached the bed, unwilling to startle Helgi though it was often inevitable, she was such a heavy sleeper. In the night Helgi had turned away from the window and Eidra smiled. She detested waking to the sun in her eyes. They would have to make the effort to move her bed one day soon.  
“Helgi?” she laid a hand gently upon Helgi's shoulder, “Helgi?”  
“Mmm....oh! Such a stitch in my back, Hel and be damned!”  
“Where?” Eidra sat on the side of the mattress her hands on Helgi's back.  
“Higher....right beneath my shoulder...no lower...right there!”   
She drew in a sharp breath as Eidra began to rub the spot, “Ah! Pop...pet...for the gods sake put a dagger in my hand and set a wolf upon me. I am of no use.”  
“Helgi, I shall brook none of that today. We are getting ready to send Brenna on a new life of her own. Be happy for her.”  
Helgi rolled to her back and patted Eidra's hand, “Of course. you are right, Poppet.”  
Eidra smiled, stood up and threw back the covers, “Come now, the morning meal is waiting.”

 

The meal was an intimate, merry affair. Beth had set the table with her scones, pots of elderberry jam and butter, salt pork and dried ling accompanied by mugs of cider or tea. Fen had set about teasing Brenna that she would be old and married on the morrow while the girls laughed. Helgi sung an old song about the wedding night setting the adults giggling as she replaced the bawdy bits with silly phrases but all too soon the house erupted with activity. The front door seemed never to close but it would open again with an endless stream of people, servants, their arms full of packages, cloth, foodstuffs in a constant shuffle into the kitchen and the dining hall. No sooner would Eidra find a quiet moment but something or someone would need her attention be it the children, a disagreement between the baker and Gretten, or Brenna looking for her opinion on something. Out in the yard behind the manor, in the center of a ring of stones, Eldred and Calil had been piling wood which would be lit for the ceremony the following day near dusk. That afternoon, a royal coach had pulled up into the dooryard delivering Sophie, Brian and Rachel to the manor. Brian had been directed to the new manor house where Chase waited for him and so it went.  
If the morning meal could be termed merry, the evening meal was doubly so as Brenna, Rachel and Sophie commanded the conversation, regaling the table with tales of their adventures on Midgard.  
Sitting there listening to them, Eidra was moved to glance across the table to the seat Loki had occupied for so many seasons, looking for his reaction to a funny anecdote or a serious tidbit, a habit she had never quite managed to break. Ordinarily she would turn her attention elsewhere, blocking the image from her mind but on this night, in particular, she felt tears prickle her eyes at the thought of her cold bed in the room overhead that would be quiet as death come time to retire.   
As the night grew late, and the evening meal was cleared away, Eidra readied Cait and Astrid for bed while the girls sequestered themselves in Brenna's room to talk.   
“Mama?” came Astrid's muffled voice as Eidra pulled her dress up over her head, “Will Papa be here on the morrow to watch Brenna be married?”  
“I do not know....arms up again,” She pulled the nightgown down over Astrid's head   
Cait spoke up, “Papa said he might not be able to come but that he sent Brenna presents. Do you not remember?”  
“It also means he might come Cait! Who will bind their hands together?”  
“Fen will do it. He is the man of the house.”  
“Fen is not PAPA!” Astrid shouted.  
“Astrid!” Eidra hissed, “That is quite enough. It is up to Papa whether he attends the ceremony or not. He has done well by your sister. He has given her a home and two servants, a set of horses, the north fields...”  
“But...he...must...bind....their....hands!” Astrid wailed punctuating each word with a flap of her arms that would have been comical had Eidra not been at the limit of her patience. She lifted Astrid and set her on her bed.  
“Fen will give his approval. I will not tolerate another word on the matter, do you ken?!”  
When Astrid's face crumpled, Eidra felt guilt stab at her, razor sharp. She sat down on the bed and drew the sniffling child into her lap. After a moment they were joined by Cait who leaned across Astrid's back in an effort to nudge herself beneath Eidra's arm.  
“Pay no heed to Mama,” Eidra cooed, “She misses Papa too.”  
“Do you?” Cait murmured while Astrid burrowed further into Eidra's chest.  
“What a silly question. Of course I do. Now enough of this. Your sister's wedding shall be a happy affair and we should honor her by putting on our best face.”  
Little by little, Astrid's quiet crying died away until Eidra was able to lay her down in bed without the little girl clutching at her dress. Cait stood there by Eidra's side for a moment before climbing up beside Astrid and joining her beneath the covers. Instead of reminding Cait she should be in her own bed, however, Eidra bent and kissed them both, slipping out of the room as they began to whisper to one another.  
When she reached the foyer, she peered into the library, expecting to see Helgi on the divan but it was empty. She continued on through the old sitting room into the dining hall where Helgi sat talking with Beth, bouncing June on one knee.  
“I thought you would be waiting for me in the library.”  
“I was simply talking with Beth about the wedding. I am going to retire early this evening, poppet. 'Tis been a long day....unless you wish for me to stay up a bit later.”  
Swallowing the loneliness that threatened to overwhelm her, Eidra shook her head.   
“No, I too should retire soon. We will be up quite early on the morrow. Here let me help you to bed.”

 

After she'd seen Helgi was settled for the evening, Eidra stood in the hall for a minute, staring at the door to her room, shook her head and descended the stairs to the foyer, stopping beneath the archway to the library. Her knitting sat in its basket by the end of the divan, illuminated by the low firelight. From the kitchen drifted the sound of pots rattling, low voices. She nearly considered joining them but changed her mind, drifting to the divan to sit, staring up at the family portrait.  
“Three seasons,” she muttered, picking her knitting up out of the basket and laying it in her lap, “Three sad, lonely..... inane seasons.”  
She willed her hands to lift the needles only to set them down, lift them once more before shoving the whole piece onto the floor. She stood from the divan and strode into the foyer. Lifting her cloak from its peg, she grabbed a lantern from the table beside the door, slipping out into the moonlit summer night.

 

“Agathon, hold still,” Eidra spat as the strap pulled from her trembling hand for the third time. Her heart was fair a hum in her chest. She felt like a young maid stealing away to meet her lover though she was well aware shame and disappointment were a distinct possibility at the end of this nighttime jaunt. She pulled herself up into the saddle and eased Agathon out of the stable, keeping him at a walk lest someone in the manor hear her but when they reached the main road, she let him have rein, urging him into a gallop north toward the city.

 

“It...it is exceedingly late,” the servant continually glanced over his shoulder to be certain she was still following him, “I believe his Highness is abed.”  
“He keeps very early hours these days does he?” Eidra gazed about the halls as they made their way to Loki's bedchamber.  
“Ah...n..not always but he was ex..exceeding melancholy today,” the servant stopped before the bedchamber door, hesitated and all at once she felt sick at heart. Had Loki at last taken a mistress when the lonely nights proved too much to bear? Could they even now be entangled in each others arms in the throes of passion? She was certain this must be the reason the servant seemed so afraid to disturb him. She backed further into the hall, the urge to bolt tugging at her as he squared his shoulders and knocked on the door.  
“Enter.”  
The servant eased the door open to step inside. Through the open door she could see his bed, empty, illuminated by firelight.  
“Your Highness, you have a visitor.”  
“Whoever is it calls of an evening so old?”  
Before the servant could speak further, she had eased herself into the room behind him. Loki was sitting before the fire, blessedly alone, a tome upon a small table before him. When he spied Eidra, however, he leaped to his feet nearly upsetting table and book onto the hearth.  
She could count, barely on both hands, their encounters in the past three seasons, seeing Brenna off to college on Midgard, summoning her to the palace to discuss building Brenna's manor house, as if he needed her approval, the crown prince Mòdi's marking ceremony, a few other chance meetings. Anything more frequent was too painful for them both. They had been no closer than a couple arms length away in the past, keeping a respectful distance while appearing as a united family when decorum called for such a facade but now he was before her, taking her hand in his, his eyes searching her face for answers.  
“Eidra, what in Odin's name are you doing here? Are you alone? The gods wept, woman did you ride here alone at night? Something is wrong. Are the children well? Say something!”  
Say something? She could scarce stand on her own two feet, looked down at his hand as he waved to the servant.  
“Bring my wife a chalice of mulled wine.”  
“Yes, your Highness,” the servant bowed out of the room while Loki led her to his chair before the fire.  
“Eidra, please I beg of you. Tell me why you are here before I go mad with worry.”  
_“Bring my wife a chalice of mulled wine,”_ He still referred to her as his wife. She opened her mouth, closed it, giggled, her nerves overtaking her good senses, “You know, when the servant brought me to your rooms, I was terrified I would find you with another woman.”  
Loki knelt down beside the chair, stroking her hand, “Do not tell me a tryst with an imagined lover brought you all the way here to the palace in the middle of the night.”  
“No!....no...”  
He let loose her hand and stood up, crossing his arms, “Then what is it? Is everything prepared for the wedding?”  
She nodded, “Yes, of course.”  
“And the children, they are well?”  
“Yes......no,” she followed his every move with her eyes, the regal bearing with which he still carried himself, the small gestures, movements burned into her memory, his long black hair pulled back into a loose ponytail accented by the streaks of gray at his temples, the sharp line of his jaw, eyes crinkling with a curious smile that faded as he drew near to her once more.  
“No...? What say you? You claim they are well one moment, the next you deny it.”  
If she did not speak the words she had been rehearsing in her mind on the way to the palace, she would lose her nerve entirely. Likely he had already decided she was as mad as he'd supposed upon her arrival. She rose from the chair, panic moving her to pace.  
“They are not ill mind you but they are not well. They have not been well for three seasons, this you must see when you talk to them each week. This arrangement has never been to their liking.”  
Loki pressed his fingertips to his temples, closed his eyes, “Nor mine but I have tried my best to explain to them why I have done what I did.”  
“I told you before when you embarked on this lonely journey. They are too young to ken the foolish workings of the heart. The inane choices one makes when he cannot face his fallible nature..”  
“Inane!”  
“Yes, stupid, childish, selfish decisions...” she stamped her foot on the stones.  
“You think me stupid, remaining here at the palace so I would not stain their lives with the horrible things I have done?” he clapped a hand to his chest, “I wanted them to live a life in the sunlight without the shadow of disgrace to darken each day.”  
“Oh by the gods will you cease this wretched lament?!” Eidra ached to take him by the collar of his robe and shake him, “They are your children, nothing will ever change that. If they are to live with such a stain regardless then why not let them take comfort in your light instead of suffering the cold of your shadow? As horrible deeds go, your past was far worse than your present could ever hope to be and within that past you fathered five children in a happy home! Life has moved on, your position is little changed save in title so Fen tells me...”  
“I am no longer adviser...”  
“And yet the King still looks to you because he knows as do we all that you are yet the man you were before this debacle. Would the High council accept the son of a man so reviled as you believe yourself to be as a secondary replacement only steps away from a Council position?”  
“It is...there is more to my choice...”  
“What more?!” she strode up to him, “What more would tear you, by your own doing, from the bosom of the woman you loved, from the arms of your family?”  
“You did not love me when I returned from Jotunheim! The look in your eyes when you found I had survived spoke volumes! I felt ashamed to have come out of the realm alive where another, a better man had not!”  
“I was angry! Afraid. Would you not be so had you been in my place? As for Colin he did what he did to return you to me. When you walked out of the room that day, you unraveled all he had tried to restore to us! You took away my sunlight, my happiness, my comfort and solace and left me to grieve all alone. I forgave you, why could you not forgive yourself?” ..,” she was distraught now, the memories opened afresh in her mind, “You gave me no choice save the one you made on your own!'  
All at once she was enfolded in his arms, the sudden contact after such a very long time apart buckling her knees as he bore her up, “Three seasons! Three unbearably bleak, lonely, black seasons without my husband, trying my best to be brave for our children, acting as if you were but at your work until each evening when I could no longer pretend, climbing into that great cavernous bed alone!”  
She felt him press his lips to her hair, groaning as he breathed her name, “Eidra.... you have strength in reserves that I could never hope to match. I have long been but a shade of my former self without you beside me yet I do not feel worthy of your love. ”  
She leaned back, bringing her hand up to touch his cheek, “You are worthy of this and much more you foolish man.”  
“An' you believe 'tis so? What then would you have me do? ”He closed his eyes, capturing her hand beneath his own as she lay her head against his chest, listening to the hammer of a heart she had never hoped to hear again.  
“Come home.”

 

For the tenth time, Brenna readjusted her pillow, switching to her back again, flopping down with a sigh. From across the room came Sophie's muffled voice, “For chrissake's Bren you gotta get some rest or you'll be fallin' asleep at the reception. Everything will be fine, promise..”  
As if in response, a loud snore issued from Rachel's cot, setting Brenna and Sophie to giggling.  
“Gotta record her doing that someday...”  
“Sophie?”  
“Mmmm?”  
“Thank you for being here for me.”  
Sophie held up a hand in the air, let it drop to the cot, “That's what besties are for.”  
Brenna closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the feather mattress, her body relaxing as she let go of consciousness. A moment later, her eyes were open, staring at the ceiling. She sat up, looking about the room.  
“Do you hear that?”  
“Mmmhearwha...?  
Brenna threw the coverlet aside and slipped from her bed to hurry to the window, “I heard hoofbeats.”  
“That's how people get around here innit?” Sophie mumbled, “Horses?”  
Brenna stood at the window, staring out into the darkness at the dooryard, “Yes, yes but...”  
Through the trees lining the lane from the main road, Brenna spied the bobbing light from a lantern and her stomach clenched. It was early in the morning. A visitor could only mean bad news.   
“What if something has happened to my father? The gods would not be so cruel would they?”  
“Hope the gods wouldn't have such a rotten sense of humor,”Sophie stretched, turned to her side and lifted herself up on her elbow, “can you see who it is?”  
Brenna cupped the glass, “Not yet.”  
At last the horse emerged from the canopy over the road to halt a few yards short of the front door but Brenna never saw the two figures dismount to the ground.  
“Jesus Brenna, what is it?”  
“My father!.....My.....” she dropped to her knees, groping frantically beneath her bed for her slippers, “My father and my mother.....to...gether....hell and be damned!”  
“Really?” Sophie jumped from the cot, hurrying to the window eliciting a snort from Rachel who lifted her head from her pillow.  
“Whatizzit?” she mumbled before dropping her head back to the pillow.  
Brenna was already out of the room, trying to navigate the hallway as quietly as she could but when she reached the stairs, she took them by twos to the foyer. In the windows by the front door, she could see the light of the lantern, hear low voices. Unwilling to disturb them lest she break whatever spell they were under, she stood in the darkened foyer dancing from one foot to the other until the door swung open and they walked inside, holding hands.....holding hands!   
She clamped a hand to her mouth, stifling an excited shout as she rushed into her father's arms.  
“Papa,” she whispered, “Papa, you are home!”  
“Odin's beard, Brenna! If your intention was to frighten us, you have done your chore well. You should be abed,” Loki chided, though he held their embrace a moment longer, “You have a big day on the morrow.”  
“I could not sleep and so I heard the horse coming up the lane. Oh Papa this means worlds to me!”  
“Brenna,” Eidra put a finger to her lips, “I do not want to wake the household.”  
Loki nodded in agreement, “Yes, let us keep this secret until dawn at least. I will put Agathon away.”   
He leaned down to plant a lingering kiss upon Eidra's cheek and Brenna could barely contain herself as he stepped outside again.   
“Mama! Is he home to stay? Tell me 'tis so!”  
“We have some things to talk about but for all intents and purposes,” she smiled, “yes he is home to stay. Now to bed with you.”  
“Yes, oh Mama. I am so happy for you!” Brenna enfolded her in a fierce embrace, “We are a family again.”  
Watching Brenna up the stairs, she heard Agathon whinny on his way to the stable and suddenly it seemed as if the past three seasons had been nothing but a half remembered nightmare. After a moment's pause, she followed Brenna's lead. She would turn down the sheets, ready the bedchamber for him where she'd no doubt they would both enjoy the best sleep in three seasons, and well they should for tomorrow there would be a wedding, a happy harmonious affair unmarred by absence or heartbreak. The children would have their father back. Her husband would be at her side, binding Brenna's hand together with Chase's in symbol of their union.  
No longer would her family be divided.


End file.
